


Hang Fire

by ConnieBailey



Category: Justified
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-16 15:41:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 42,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17552459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConnieBailey/pseuds/ConnieBailey
Summary: Raylan Givens meets his match in Tim Gutterson. An impulsive act shows him a side of himself he didn't know existed. As Raylan and Tim serve notice to the miscreants of Harlan County, the thing growing between them spins out of control.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fanfic because I admire the writing and the ensemble cast work of Justified, as well as the chemistry between the characters. Raylan could be paired with any number of other characters, but it was his banter with Tim that inspired me. I've done my best to stay true to the voice of the show.

Hang Fire  
Justified fanfic. Pairing: Raylan Givens/Tim Gutterson played by Tim Olyphant/Jacob Pitts

The sky was unmarred blue, not a cloud in sight. The sun was bright, but the mountain breeze was cool. The fresh scent of pine needles filled the air. Bees droned in the clover, and at a few minutes past noon in this idyllic setting, a life-and-death drama was being enacted high in the hills of Kentucky. The setting was two-story, wood-frame house falling to ruin. Inside, were at least two gunmen who weren’t stingy with bullets. Outside, Deputy U.S. Marshal Raylan Givens was in a pickle. At six feet—six-two in his boots—one hundred and seventy-five pounds, he made a good target.  
“Keep your hands where I can see ‘em,” a man shouted from behind the front door.  
Raylan stretched his arms a little higher and called himself seven kinds of fool for walking into this mess. All he’d wanted was a little polite conversation with his old friend, Boyd Crowder. He’d hoped to get the lay of land he’d fled ten years ago, but he’d stepped into a snake pit.  
Evidently, the gunmen holed up in the ramshackle cabin were no longer on Boyd’s payroll, nor did they give a mangy rat’s ass about Raylan’s badge. His Stetson had been shot off and lay in the dirt a few feet behind him. He longed to pick it up, but he was no fool. His continued existence depended on him being as still as possible.  
Raylan was grateful for the presence of back-up that had arrived a few minutes ago even though he hadn’t called for it. Help was nearby in the form of a US Marshal’s car and couple of state police cruisers, but he was standing in the no man’s land of open ground between the cabin and the vehicles—a sitting duck.  
“How you doin’ there, Raylan?” Raylan’s new boss Art Mullen called out to him from behind a big SUV. “Can we get you anything? A magazine maybe?”  
Raylan almost smiled. “I’d appreciate it if you could call in an air strike on that cabin yonder.”  
Art chuckled. “I got somethin’ better,” he retorted.  
“Well, if you got a secret weapon, let ‘er rip.” Raylan narrowed his eyes as the door to the cabin opened a crack.  
“If you ain’t got no warrant, you want to get the hell off my property now!” someone bellowed from inside.  
“That would be my very great pleasure,” Raylan called out. “But I ain’t sure I can trust you not to shoot me in the back.”  
“You a wise man. I got a fella up in the loft with a gun on you, lawman.”  
Raylan glanced up and saw a shadow behind an incongruous fanlight over the rickety door. He kept his gaze on the shadow as he addressed the man behind the door. “Forgive me if I can’t understand what it is you expect to happen next.”  
“I expect you to die. You don’t recognize me, do you?”  
Raylan shook his head. “That would be difficult since I can’t see you.”  
“My name’s Crowe. That ring a bell?”  
It surely did. Raylan’s first arrest was a man named Crowe. As Raylan recalled, that man was sentenced to some hard time. So, this was now about vengeance.  
“Just think of it.” Crowe cackled. “You walked right into my sights.”  
“Ain’t going to be easy to shoot me through the door.”  
The man at the door widened the crack by a few millimeters. Raylan could see one eye, a triangle of cheekbone, and part of a bushy mustache. He heard the flat crack of gunfire, exploding glass, and a loud thud. Before he could even register what had happened, he heard another report, felt a whisper of air on his neck, and then a spray of red filled the partially open doorway.  
Raylan whirled around and stared at the small group of lawmen behind the vehicles. They were moving about except for one, the only one not familiar to Raylan. The stranger was a long, lean young man wearing a ball cap turned backward, cheek resting against the stock of a Remington 700. He lowered the rifle and placed it in a case that rested on the hood of the SUV, his movements precise and unhurried. Though he was focused on his task, Raylan got the feeling he was hyper aware of all that was going on around him. It was one of the salient traits of a military-trained sniper, and if there was one thing Raylan was sure of, it was that no one else could have made those shots.  
“You gonna stand there all day and gawk?” Art called out.  
“I was considering it.” Raylan picked up his hat, put it on his head, and walked over to stand with Art and a couple of state police. Four more staties of lesser rank passed him as they went to check out the cabin. “Carl. Ebbie. Nice to see you,” Raylan greeted the men with Art. He didn’t mean it. He was too familiar with their history to feel anything but mild contempt.  
The two officers mumbled some pleasantries they probably didn’t mean either.  
“Carl here was just tellin’ me how glad he is that peckerwood didn’t shoot you, Raylan,” Art said.  
Raylan looked at stocky, balding Carl whose favored form of recreation, as he recalled, was dynamiting fish. “Why thank you, Carl. Didn’t know you cared.”  
“I don’t,” Carl said flatly. “You’re a pain in the ass, you high-toned sonuvabitch.”  
Art guffawed. “You ain’t lyin’, but it sure would have been awkward if Raylan got vaporized by some lowlifes his first day back in Kentucky. Embarrassin’ for the department.”  
“That was a hell of a shot,” Raylan said. “Two hell shots, in fact.” He glanced over at the shooter.  
“Who’s the pretty boy?” Ebbie asked.  
“Hey now,” Art said. “Don’t go disparagin’ my new favorite deputy marshal.”  
“Come on, Art,” Raylan said. “I thought I was your favorite, and well, he is kind of pretty.”  
“Don’t start,” Art warned.  
“Afraid we’ll hurt your boyfriend’s feelings, Art?” Carl said.  
“I will not dignify that.”  
Raylan chuckled at Art’s exaggerated look of outrage.  
“It’s okay,” Carl said. “We know it gets boring on those long prisoner transports, and it’s so nice to have someone to suck your dick for you.”  
Raylan’s amber gaze went cold as he focused on Carl. “Now how would you feel if someone said that about you?”  
“Wouldn’t happen,” Carl answered. “I don’t suck dick.”  
“Naw, you just kiss a lot of ass,” Art said. “And if I ever hear you talk about one of my men like that again, I’ll….” He paused. “I’ll sic Raylan on you.”  
“You used to have a sense of humor,” Carl said.  
“I still do, you just ain’t funny.”  
Carl looked at Ebbie, who had remained silent through the exchange. “You ready to mount up. It’s starting to smell a little queer around here.”  
“Last time I heard something like that, I was in fourth grade,” Raylan said.  
“That was last week for Carl,” Ebbie said. He smiled. “So long, Raylan. Art. Come on, Carl. Let’s go get something to eat.”  
As the staties drove off, Art fixed Raylan with a serious stare. “What the hell are you doing here in Harlan County, Raylan Givens?”  
“I could ask you the same. This sure as hell ain’t Lexington.”  
“No, it surely ain’t, but I bet you’re glad I’m here.”  
“Cain’t argue with that.” Raylan once more glanced at the shooter. “Anyway, I was headed to Lexington to report for duty. I just took a little detour on the way.”  
“You don’t have to tell me your ass is mine. I’ve been looking forward to this.” Art grinned, which was not the reaction Raylan was expecting. “I’m glad you’re back.”  
“So… you’re not mad?”  
“I’ve changed a bit in the decade you’ve been away. The wife put her foot down about me bein’ obsessed with the job. That’s what she said, anyway. Obsessed.” Art shook his head. “I’ve learned to see the humor in things instead of flying off the handle.”  
“Congratulations.”  
“Thanks. Now, would you like to meet my secret weapon?”  
“Yes, I would.”  
“Tim, come on over here,” Art called.  
The lanky deputy walked over. “You need your dick sucked again, boss?” he said.  
Raylan almost hurt himself holding in his laughter.  
Art shook his head. “You heard that, did you?” he asked the deputy. He got a lazy shrug in answer. “Deputy Marshal Raylan Givens meet Deputy Marshal Tim Gutterson. Tim used to shoot people for Uncle Sam, but since Wednesday, he’s shootin’ people for me.”  
“I thought as much.”  
Raylan offered his hand and it was taken in a warm, firm grip and released. None of that macho bullshit of trying to crush his fingers. Raylan liked that; it told him the guy had confidence but didn’t need to prove it. And the kid was dressed in boots, broken-in jeans, and a pearl snap shirt under an official U.S. Marshal windbreaker. Raylan approved of this also. (As Art observed later, seeing them face-to-face made him realize Tim reminded him very much of a younger version of Raylan, minus the swagger.)  
“Good to meet you,” Raylan said. “I feel like I ought to at least say thank you.”  
“Just doing my job,” Tim drawled.  
“Then thanks for doing it so well.”  
Tim nodded. “You’re welcome.”  
Raylan turned to Art. “Soft-spoken, polite, lethal.” He grinned his wolfish grin. “I like him.”  
“Good,” Art said. “You need a partner. Now you got one.”  
“Art.” Raylan’s tone was reproachful. “We’ve talked about this in the past. I don’t need a partner. Furthermore, I don’t want a partner.” He glanced at Tim. “No offense.”  
Tim did the one-shoulder shrug thing again.  
“Don’t let that babyface fool you,” Art told Raylan. “And besides, you just said you like him.”  
“Yeah, I reckon I did.” Raylan sighed. “Are you really going to do this to me, Art?”  
“I really am, and I’m going to enjoy it.” Art looked over at Tim. “You do what Raylan tells you, you hear, unless he’s being stupid, or reckless, or you just don’t want to.” He laughed. “I’m going to get in my vehicle now and leave the two of you to get acquainted.” He was still chuckling when he drove off.

To be continued.


	2. Scene 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raylan and Tim have lunch.

Raylan scowled at his boss’s departing vehicle and then turned to Tim. “You hungry?”  
“I never turn down a chance to eat.” Tim paused. “But I ain’t suckin’ your dick.”  
Raylan responded in kind. “Are you refusing to abide by the time-honored traditions of hillbilly law enforcement?”  
“That’s right.”  
“Good man.” Raylan nodded. “Let’s go.”  
Tim held up the rifle case.  
“Right.” Raylan opened the trunk of his black Lincoln Town Car and then got into the driver’s seat.  
Tim set the sniper rifle in the trunk and shut the lid. He slid into the passenger seat and buckled the seat belt. While Raylan started the car, Tim looked around.  
“Nice,” Tim said.  
“It’ll do.”  
“V8?”  
“Four-point six liter.”  
“Nice.”  
“Yeah.” Raylan handled the big car like a speedboat down the steeply inclined, deeply rutted dirt road. His passenger was cool as menthol as Raylan slewed around the sharp curves, letting the back end of the heavy vehicle drift through the turns. “You don’t rattle, do you?”  
Tim continued to look out the side window. “No, I don’t.”  
“Come natural to you, does it?” Raylan asked, now determined to shake this guy up.  
“Just never saw the point in getting all nerved up.”  
“That was almost a complete sentence.”  
“Sorry, never went to college.”  
Raylan pulled smoothly onto the paved road and put his foot down. “You go into the Army right out of high school?”  
“I did.” Tim finally looked over at Raylan.  
“I’m not judging you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”  
“Judge me all you want.”  
Raylan smiled. “Okay then.”  
“Glad we got that settled.”  
Raylan turned left at the crossroads and headed for the nearest town. “What brought you to Kentucky?”  
“I was assigned here.”  
“Well, sure, but usually you have some choice.”  
“I can be a marshal anywhere.”  
“Yeah, but….” Raylan waved a hand at a shack as they drove past. The roof was scabbed with rust and loose tarpaper flapped in the wind. A barefoot girl filled a basin with water from a hand pump on the side porch. An elderly man sat in a rocker on the sagging front porch; he grinned toothlessly and returned Raylan’s wave. “Why would you want to come here?” His contempt was clear in his tone.  
“I didn’t.”  
“So… you just don’t care?”  
“Correct, and you remembered to put your answer in the form of a question.”  
Raylan glanced over at Tim and then returned his attention to the road. “If you’re fucking with me….”  
“Yeah?”  
“I kind of like it.”  
“Outstanding.”  
Raylan slowed as they entered the town limits. He and Tim scanned the sides of the street for restaurants.  
“Barbecue?” Raylan said.  
“Why not?”

Time break

Raylan told the woman who took their order to bring them the best plates in the house. She returned with two platters that made the muscles in her arms bulge. She set the plates and down and armed sweat off her forehead. A skinny young woman moved from behind her and put two Solo cups of beer on the table before scurrying off.  
“Anything else?” the big woman asked.  
“No, ma’am,” Raylan said, eyeing the mountain of food. “I think this will do it.” He picked up the Solo cup. “Probably shouldn’t be drinking on the job. Probably.”  
Tim gazed at the plate in front of him. The platter held four sliced ribs, a chicken breast and thigh, pulled pork on toast, baked beans, coleslaw, and hush puppies. The meat was coated with a rich glaze of bourbon barbecue sauce.  
“Tuck in,” Raylan said. “You don’t have to eat all of it.”  
“I was just wondering why they brought us the child’s plate.”  
Raylan laughed and sprayed Tim with the foam off the top of his beer. “Sorry, but you’re a funny guy.”  
Tim pulled a paper towel from the roll on the table and wiped his face. “No one ever expects it. I guess I’ve just got a serious face or something.”  
“You don’t smile much, that’s for sure.”  
“Do you think I’d be prettier if I smiled?” Tim picked up the pulled pork and took an enormous bite. He looked expectantly at Raylan while he chewed.  
Raylan gazed at the big smear of barbecue sauce on Tim’s chin. “Well, I just don’t see how you could be any prettier than you are right now.”  
Tim swallowed. “You’re all right.”  
“Did you think I wouldn’t be? Is that why you’ve been testing me with your sly wit?”  
“Well, you do have a certain reputation.”  
Raylan gestured with a rib for Tim to continue.  
“People say you’re a badass. They also say you’re an asshole.”  
“You’d be surprised how often those things come in handy when you’re dealing with lowlifes.”  
Tim nodded. “So, I expected some stereotypical alpha male who’d want to get into a dick-measuring contest first thing.”  
“And?” Raylan took a drink of his beer.  
“You don’t disappoint.”  
Raylan wasn’t sure if he was amused or offended. It was a novel feeling, and he savored it like the adrenaline junkie he was. It was a small jolt, true, but any new experience was welcome. He found himself looking forward to sparring with Tim. “I didn’t expect to be saying this, but I think we might make a fair to middling team.”  
“Only if you drag us down.”  
It was not the answer Raylan was expecting. Delighted, he responded with sarcasm. “Okay, I get it. You’re the shit, huh?”   
“Correct, and so are you. So, none of this ‘fair to middling’ bullshit.”  
“You got a problem with modesty?”  
“Only when it’s fake.” Tim licked his fingers clean of barbecue sauce before tearing off another paper towel.  
“You think I got a high opinion of myself?”  
“Well, if you don’t, you damn sure should.”  
“Maybe you ought to hold off on my Nobel prize till after you’ve seen me naked.”  
Tim offered a crooked little smile. “You make it sound like that’s bound to happen, sooner or later.”  
“Well, you do owe me a blow job, I believe.”  
Tim chuckled, and Raylan was surprised by the warm feeling that bloomed in his chest before spreading southward. Why should the kid’s soft laugh make him feel this way? And then he realized it was the same throaty chuckle he used to hear when his ex-wife was in the mood for bed-play. Close enough, anyway, to interest his crotch. What the hell?  
Abruptly, Raylan stood up. “We’re still on the clock,” he said.  
Tim put down the half-finished beer. “If you want to go pay, I’ll leave a tip.”  
Raylan settled the bill, which amounted to seventeen dollars and change—a real bargain. He turned in time to see Tim put a twenty on the table. A big tipper. Raylan kept finding things to like about his new partner.  
When Tim joined Raylan, they went out to the car. Raylan started the engine and put the big vehicle in gear.  
“Let’s see if we can find some trouble,” he said.  
“Outstanding.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim and Raylan go to a shooting range.

After a quiet week, Raylan was starting to feel like he was settling into a routine. He’d rented a cabin at an old-school roadside motel, located all the new fast-food joints, and finally been awarded a windshield sticker for the office’s parking structure. There was still one thing missing, but he hadn’t felt the need to seek it out until today.  
Today had been long and boring. He’d spent most of it watching Tim and Deputy Marshal Rachel Brooks work the computers together like a couple of rocket scientists on crack and tried not to feel incompetent or left out. By four, he was launching paper clips with a rubber band, seeing how close he could come to Tim without hitting him. It was fairly entertaining since neither Tim nor Rachel noticed.  
It struck him how juvenile he was being, but he was going out of his mind with boredom. He supposed he could return the files on his desk to the file room, but then he’d be given more files to go through. He glanced over at Tim and Rachel zipping through the files on their screens. He launched another paper clip.  
Without looking away from his screen, Tim snatched the paper clip out of the air. “You should be about out of ammo by now.” He looked over at Rachel and she tossed him a rubber band. Tim smirked at Raylan. “Do you feel lucky, punk?”  
Raylan ducked as his colleagues fired at him.  
Art stuck his head out of his office. “What the hell is goin’ on out here?”  
“Structural integrity test, chief,” Rachel said promptly.  
“Looks like horseplay to me.”  
“That’s because you’re a bitter man,” Raylan said. “You want us to get off your lawn?”  
“Yeah, would you?” Art made a chicken-shooing gesture. “Go cause trouble somewhere else.”  
Rachel stood and put her purse strap over her shoulder. She was halfway to the door when Raylan called after her. “What?” she called back.  
“Why are you in such a hurry?”  
“Why do you care or imagine it’s any of your business?”  
“Now I’m really interested.” Raylan looked over at Tim. “Is it possible Rachel has a date?”  
“I’d say the possibility has a direct correlation to—”  
“Tim.” Rachel’s tone was a warning.  
Tim held his hands up in the traditional sign of surrender. “Did I speak?”  
Rachel blew him a kiss before she went to the elevator.  
Raylan watched her leave and then turned to observe Tim. “You can tell me it’s none of my business, but are the two of you, you know, involved?”  
Tim stopped chewing his pen. “No.”  
“Think she’d go out with me?”  
“Hell no.”  
“Lesbian?”  
“Why would I know that?”  
“Thought maybe she told you.”  
“Well, she didn’t. She has the class not to discuss her colleagues’ sex lives.”  
“Ouch,” Raylan said. “What’s that burning sensation?”  
“Have a doctor look at it.”  
Raylan grinned. He still didn’t like having a partner, but he did like Tim. Nothing he said got under this guy’s skin; he just lobbed it back at Raylan.  
“Hey, since we’re off the clock, how about we go waste some ordinance?”  
“Are you suggesting we visit a shooting range?  
“I’m goin’, and you’re welcome to come along.”  
“Indoor or outdoor?”  
“It won’t be dark for another couple of hours, so we could do either. You have a preference?”  
“Outdoor takes more skill.”  
“Yeah, not much wind or glare indoors.” Raylan smiled. “So, indoors?”  
“You really just want to make some bang-bangs, don’t you?”  
“That’s right. I’m not out to hone my skills. I just want to fire off a few rounds.”  
“Man, you are such a cliché.”  
“You lost me.” Raylan went to the coatrack and got his jacket and hat.  
“Well, that ain’t too hard.”  
Raylan refrained from retorting, mostly because he couldn’t think of anything. It was rare that someone made him feel he was out of his depth, but Tim accomplished the feat at least once a day. However, and this was the strange part, it didn’t annoy him. It had the opposite effect.  
After the trouble in Miami, Raylan felt lucky to have landed in a situation where his boss was a man he’d worked well with in past, where his fellow marshals treated him like a team member. But most of all, there was Tim Gutterson, a heretofore unsuspected component that had been missing from Raylan’s life. That was how it felt anyway. He hadn’t had what anybody would call a best friend since he was nineteen. Maybe it was time.  
Raylan followed Tim’s jeep to Bud’s Gun Shop and Range. He took a Barretta 92 from the glove box and carried it in along with his Glock 17 in its holster and his Glock 26 backup.  
Tim went in with his Glock 19 holstered. He raised an eyebrow at the guns Raylan laid out on the bench but made no comment. He went into the lane next to Raylan, put on the ear protection, took a stance, and emptied his clip.  
Raylan finished doing a brass check and glanced up at his partner. “Already shot your wad?”  
Tim ejected the clip one-handed and slapped another one in. “Did you come here to shoot or chew gum?” he answered. He stepped to the line again and fired fifteen rounds in rapid succession. At the far end of the lane, the center of the target disintegrated.  
“You don’t really need the practice, do you?” Raylan said.  
Tim took off the ear protection. “What?”  
“Nothing.” Raylan emptied his 17 and then picked up the Barretta.  
“Mind if I try your 26?” Tim asked.  
Raylan passed it over. The compact gun looked even smaller in Tim’s long fingers. Raylan watched as Tim curled his forefinger around the trigger. “Looks good on you,” he said.  
Tim covered his ears again and fired at a new target. After the first shot, which was a centimeter off center, the rest were dead on. He gave the gun an appreciative look before he handed it back. “It has a nice feel, but I believe I’ll stick with my SIG for backup. Pulls a hair to the left, by the way.”  
“She’s got character.”  
“Whatever totes your goat, man.” Tim watched Raylan fire the Barretta from the hip. “So, did you come yet?”  
“I was this close when you ruined the mood.” Raylan held up thumb and forefinger a millimeter apart. “Might as well get a pizza.”  
To his horror, Tim heard himself say. “Positano’s has the best pizza around here.” What the hell? He wanted to go home, not spend more time with this man-child, no matter how much he enjoyed Raylan’s company—because he enjoyed Raylan’s company to be accurate. This wasn’t a road he wanted to go down, not even the first step. Yet, here he was babbling about pizza.  
“Lead on,” Raylan said.  
Tim resigned himself to at least another hour in the company of this charming throwback. He’d served in Afghanistan. Surely, he could endure this specific form of torture for an hour.  
Almost exactly an hour later, Raylan proclaimed he couldn’t eat another bite. Tim took the last two more slices, stacked them, and ate the pizza sandwich in eight bites. Raylan counted.  
“You’re a machine,” Raylan said. “And you can sure as hell hold your liquor. How many beers and shots you reckon we’ve had?”  
“Well over the legal limit would be my guess.”  
“We’re a couple of piss-poor lawmen.” Raylan grinned.  
“Cab or Uber?”  
“They got Uber here?”  
“Yeah, they got the Uber, and the HBO too.”  
Raylan laughed hard, leaning into Tim’s shoulder as he’d done several times that evening. He was secure in his masculinity and more to the point, his balance was compromised by alcohol. “You’re a pistol,” he said.  
“Considering your fondness for firearms, I’ll take that as a compliment.” Tim eased a few inches away from Raylan under the guise of picking up his beer bottle. “We should probably go.”  
Raylan looked at his watch. “It’s like eight o’clock, you’ve had dinner, and you’ve got a good buzz going. What’s the hurry?”  
“No hurry, but this is a popular place, and they could probably use an empty table.”  
“Oh. Right. For a minute there, I thought you were rejecting me.”  
“After you bought me dinner? That wouldn’t be legal, would it?”  
Raylan chuckled. “Fine. I’ll buy because you showed me the best pizza in town.”  
“I was joking.”  
“I know. That’s why I laughed.”  
Tim bounced his keys on his hand as they walked outside, tossing them and catching them without looking. Raylan figured Tim had the peripheral vision of the average shark.  
“You’re going to drive home, aren’t you?” Raylan said.  
“I’ve got a high tolerance for alcohol.”  
“I got to admit, you seem awful steady.”  
“I could drop you at your place.” Tim bit his lip. Why was his mouth sabotaging him?  
“That’d be great.” Raylan tilted his hat back. “You know where the Derby Motel is?”  
“Yeah. Why?”  
“I live there.”  
“Oh.” Tim cleared his throat. “My car’s over there.”  
“Is something wrong with the Derby?” Raylan asked as he got into the jeep’s passenger seat.  
“Not if you’re third-tier prostitute down on her luck.”  
“It’s actually quite nice. Rustic.”  
Tim hid a smile. “Rustic, huh?”  
“Yeah, rustic, like a huntin’ lodge.”  
“I know what rustic means, I just wasn’t sure you did.” Tim pulled onto the road.  
“Fuck you.”  
“On our first date?”  
“I believe I paid for dinner.”  
Tim couldn’t keep a straight face. “You know, if you were more like this more of the time more people would like you more.”  
“You reckon?”  
“I do.”  
“Thanks for the warning, bud, because I sure wouldn’t want that.”  
“Yeah, that would be horrible.” Tim made a left and headed out of town. “And don’t call me bud, okay? Had a top-kick called me that, and I didn’t like him.”  
“He make you scrub toilets in the barracks?”  
“No.”  
“He pick on you all the time?”  
“He was an asshole. Let’s leave it at that.”  
“Sure, bud.”  
“You’re kind of an asshole too.” Tim pulled into the Derby’s parking lot.  
“Yeah, I’ve heard.” Raylan climbed out of the jeep after he remembered to unbuckle his seat belt. “I got a bottle inside. Seal’s not even cracked.”  
Tim knew with absolute certainty that the worst thing he could do to himself was accept Raylan’s invitation. He watched his hand turn the jeep’s key to the off position.  
“Good,” Raylan said. “I’ve been thinking it’s high time we get to know each other better.”  
“I wasn’t, but okay.” Tim followed Raylan into the cabin. He noted the snowy pine motif of the curtains, the wagon wheel chandelier with hurricane-style lamps, and night tables made of sections of logs. “Huh. I see what you mean. It’s real rustic.”  
“Sit down, if you can find a place.” Raylan threw his jacket on the double bed and toed his boots off. “I’m makin’ myself comfortable.”  
Tim moved a newspaper from a chair to the top of the small fridge. It promptly slid off.  
“Leave it,” Raylan said. “They’ll take it away tomorrow. Sit.” He crossed the room and handed Tim a jelly jar. “They match the rest of the furnishings,” he said as he poured a shot.  
Tim saluted Raylan with the glass before downing the whisky.  
Raylan drank from the bottle. “That was quite a display at the range. I didn’t want you to get a big head, so I didn’t mention it, but I was impressed.”  
“Indoor shooting is cake.” Tim accepted when Raylan offered more booze. “You’re good. Not many guys are that accurate firing from the hip.”  
“That’s why I practice.”  
“Nah, you got that gunslinger thing. Total focus. I can do total focus, but I’m primarily a sniper. I usually have the luxury of setting up my shot. Instant focus is something else. Snapping off those shots the way you did was something to see.”  
“Thank you.” Raylan started to add “bud” but changed his mind. He and his partner were building rapport. He’d heard it was important in some class he’d been required to attend, so why risk antagonizing him?  
“Rachel says you’re here because you shot a guy dead in Miami.”  
Raylan sighed. “That’s more or less the truth. I shot a guy but that’s not why I’m here.”  
“Apparently, you told him to get out of town or you’d shoot him.”  
“Yep.”  
“So, he was warned.” Tim shrugged and then held out his glass.  
“Are you going to be able to get home?”  
“Don’t worry about it.”  
“Okay.” Raylan looked around the room. “Oh. Bathroom’s over yonder if you need it.” He squinted at Tim. “Be honest with me?”  
“Have I been anything else?”  
“No, you’re brutally frank, don’t worry. I know I’ve had a bit to drink, so I should stop talking right now, but I don’t always do what I should.”  
“That’s what it says on the men’s room wall.” Tim finished his whisky.  
“You’re funny. You know that?” Raylan offered the bottle, but this time Tim declined. “So, tell me, Mr. Frank Brutal, am I really that big a prick?”  
Tim pursed his lips. “Um….”  
“No, don’t answer. You hesitated too long.”  
“Is there a point to this?”  
“Rarely, but it’s sometimes entertainin’, or so I’ve been led to believe by my exes.”  
“Maybe I should go before I become one of your exes.”  
Raylan chuckled. “You’re a pistol.” He reached out and flopped a hand onto Tim’s shoulder.  
“So, I understand.” Tim put his glass on the table and stood up. It was time to go and past time. Raylan was a little drunker than Tim had supposed. The situation was fraught with hazards. He’d walked through minefields with less trepidation. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”  
“We should do this again.”  
“I imagine we will,” Tim said smoothly, and he knew it to be true. Some things, like death and Christmas, were inevitable. Raylan Givens had singled him out, and Raylan seemed like a man who got what he wanted.  
“Good.” Raylan walked unsteadily to the door and opened it for Tim. “It wasn’t horrible hanging out with you,” he said.  
“Wish I could say the same.”  
“Fuck you.” Raylan raised a hand to give Tim the finger. To do so, he had to let go of the door, since he held the neck of the bottle in his other hand. Gravity betrayed him, and he pitched forward. Instinctively, he threw his arms around Tim to keep from falling.  
Tim put out a hand and flattened it against Raylan’s chest, holding him upright. “Easy, cowboy.” He disentangled Raylan’s arms from around his neck and guided Rayland back inside.  
“I’m good.” Raylan sat down on the bed.  
Tim nodded and walked out, closing the door behind him. He took a deep breath, looked up at the stars, and thanked whatever gods there were for his escape. It would be smart to avoid similar situations in the future, but he didn’t hold out much hope. He started the jeep and then drove away. He wasn’t worried about making it home; that was one he could cross off the list. Still on his slate was the fear he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep and the fear that he would. A little farther down was the fear his night terrors would cause him to make a mistake on the job. Recently added was the weird thing growing between him and his partner. When he spotted an open liquor store, he pulled over.  
A few minutes after Tim left, Raylan got up and locked the door. He went back to the bed and picked up the bottle. “Do you think I came across as too needy?” he asked it. As usual, the whisky lied to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim turns down Raylan's invitation.

Theresa Brantley looked up from her computer as someone walked into reception. She smiled when she saw tall, handsome Raylan Givens. “Hey, Raylan,” she said. “What can I do for you?”  
“This ain’t an official visit, but I was wonderin’ if I could look at some files.”  
“Well, personnel files are kind of confidential.” Theresa twisted a strand of glossy dark brown hair around one finger as she gazed up at Raylan. She knew his reputation, but it only made him more attractive to her. “I suppose an exception might be made.”  
“I wouldn’t want you to get in any trouble.”  
“I can handle it,” she said, with a twenty-two-year-old’s brash confidence. “But what do I get if I open that gate for you?”  
“Uh. What do you want?”  
“I’m sure you’ll think of something.” Theresa winked as she pushed a button under her desk. “You go ahead,” she said. “But be quick, okay?”  
“You got it, darlin’.” Raylan didn’t mind making this promise. There was only one file he was interested in. He quickly found what he was looking for under G. He liked holding a physical file and riffling through the papers. He spent about ten minutes reading and then put the folder back where he’d found it. The most surprising thing about the information was how little of it there was. Birthdate and place. Mother and father’s names. Army service record. Marshal’s service record. Not much more.  
“Hey,” Theresa said brightly, when Raylan came back to her desk. “You find what you wanted?”  
“I’m not sure, darlin’, but I do appreciate your cooperation.”  
“I’ll look forward to hearin’ from you again.”  
“Yeah, me too.” Raylan put his hat on. “Thanks again,” he said, before he left the office.  
Raylan rode the elevator the ground floor and went outside. He breathed in the cool air and tried to rid himself of the vague embarrassment he felt at looking through Tim’s file. He could tell himself he’d done because it was smart to know all you could about the man watching your back, but that wasn’t why he’d done it, and he knew it.  
Raylan swung his gaze around the plaza surrounded by government buildings, but there was no help there. The truth was he couldn’t stop thinking about Tim. He wanted to know more about him, so he’d come here. That was it, plain and simple. Raylan shook his head. If only it was simple.  
As though Raylan had conjured him, Tim walked out the front door of the Veterans Affairs building across the plaza. Raylan watched, as though dreaming, as Tim came down the shallow steps with fluid grace and stopped to look around. Raylan watched a big, dark-haired man in fatigues emerge from the crowd. The big man swept Tim into a bear hug and laughed at Tim’s attempts to free himself. Raylan had taken three steps toward them before he realized Tim was smiling and wasn’t, in fact, in need of rescue.  
Raylan frowned when the big man put an arm around Tim’s shoulders. His frown deepened when Tim let the arm stay where it was. He wasn’t sure why it bothered him, but it did. He watched until they went into the building and then followed them inside.  
“Hey, Tim,” he called out.  
Tim turned. “Raylan.”  
“Hi, I thought I saw you come in here.”  
“And?”  
Raylan gave Tim’s companion a glance. “I was just saying hi.”  
“Okay.”  
Raylan offered his hand to the big guy. “Raylan Givens.”  
“Mark Sheffield.” He shook Raylan’s and then turned to Tim. “I don’t wanna be late for my ’pointment,” he said in childlike tones.  
“You won’t be.” Tim looked at Raylan. “I need to get Mark to his therapy. See you at the office.”  
“Yeah. Great.” Raylan watched Tim lead the gentle giant onto the elevator. “See you there.”

Time break

Raylan said hi to Deputy Marshal Rachel Brooks as he walked into the office. He hung up his hat and went to his desk. He glanced over at Tim’s empty chair.  
“Hey, cowboy,” Rachel said. “You’re looking extra fine today.”  
“Now I’m suspicious.”  
“Can’t a girl compliment a guy.”  
“Are you sexually harassing me?  
“You wish.” Rachel beamed a smile over Raylan’s shoulder. “Hey, Tim. How’d it go at the VA?”  
“I think this new therapist actually cares.”  
“You and Mark serve together?” Raylan guessed.  
Tim nodded. “I owe him a lot, so I do what I can.”  
Raylan nodded his understanding and his respect.  
“What were you doing there?” Rachel asked Raylan.  
“I was passing through the plaza and saw Tim go into the VA,” Raylan said. “I just wanted to say hi.” He realized how lame it sounded even as he said it.  
“Listen up, people.” Art hurried out of his office and all eyes turned to him. “The sign-up sheet has been posted for a week, but I don’t see any names on it yet.”  
“Jesus,” Raylan said. “Way you came out here with your tail feathers on fire, I thought zombies were attackin’.”  
“Don’t be a smartass,” Art said. “Are you goin’ to sign up for my bowling team or not?”  
“Or not,” Raylan said.  
“Dammit, why can’t I get a league started around here?” Art groused.  
“Because bowling is lame?” Rachel answered.  
“There is a certain satisfaction in knocking down all those pins,” Tim said. “If they’d let me use my rifle instead of a ball, I’d be in.”  
“Shut up, Tim,” Art suggested.  
Tim went back to looking at his screen, and Art flounced back into his office to stew over the lack of enthusiasm for sports around this place. Rachel left for an appointment, and Raylan found himself stealing looks at Tim over the partition between their stations. He hated the partitions. They made him feel like he talking to convicts.  
“What are you doing after work?” Raylan asked Tim.  
Tim didn’t look up. He was trying to think of something believable he could be doing instead of drinking himself unconscious. He couldn’t think of a single thing.  
“You doin’ anything or not?” Raylan said. “Wildcats have a game. We could go to Hooters or something. That should be manly enough for you.”  
Tim made a face.  
“Okay.” Raylan thought for a minute. “What do you like to do after work? Boar hunting? Bungee jumping?”  
“Go home. Put on sweat pants. Crack a beer. Read a book.”  
“I’m startin’ to think you’re antisocial.”  
“Startin’?”  
“Okay,” Raylan help up his hands. “No means no.”  
Tim really wished Raylan didn’t make him smile the way he did. It was so seductive, this facility for getting him to laugh, to relax. Tim derailed the train of thought. “I just don’t feel like goin’ out,” he said.  
“Fair enough, but we’re havin’ pizza again sometime. I insist.”  
“Oh, well, if you insist….” Tim smiled, though he didn’t want to encourage Raylan. “I’ll eat pizza with you. Just not tonight.”  
Raylan nodded. “Okay, but just so you know, I’ll be askin’ again.”  
“I know. Redundancy is your hallmark.”  
“What?”  
“You like to say the same thing three different ways until you’re sure you’ve made your point.”  
“I like that. Thanks.” Raylan got up from his desk. He put his hat on and turned to say goodbye to Tim. “I wonder if Art appreciates me bein’ so redundant?”  
“I’m sure he does.” Tim smirked. “See you tomorrow.”  
“Yep.” Raylan went to the office door. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten about the blow job you owe me.”  
Tim didn’t look up from his work. “Good night, Raylan.”  
Raylan left, though he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to eat dinner by himself, whether it was restaurant or delivery. A little less than three weeks after he’d arrived, he’d fallen into a rut. The memory evening spent with Tim at the shooting range and the pizza place was acquiring a nostalgia of almost mythic proportions compared to drugging himself with television. And there was nothing to be done about it except ask again tomorrow. Which he knew he’d do. It wasn’t like him to initiate a closer relationship, but at least now he understood why others would want to. He felt a sudden, powerful wave of empathy for his ex-wife. Finally, he understood why she had to divorce him. It was depressing throwing yourself against a brick wall over and over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raylan and Tim pay a visit to Boyd Crowder.

Scene 5

After another uneventful week of mostly paper-shuffling, Art called to Raylan as soon as Raylan walked into work. Raylan glanced over at Rachel for a clue, but her shrug indicated she had no idea what Raylan had done this time. Raylan went into Art’s office looking a little annoyed and a little curious. Art closed the door and went to sit down behind his desk. He waved Raylan to a chair, but Raylan was already sitting, hat on his knee.  
“What do you need, Art?”  
“Why so testy?”  
“I just walked in, ain’t even had time to pour a cup of coffee, and you’re callin’ me on the carpet?”  
“Are you ever chill, Raylan?”  
“Am I what?” Raylan squinted at Art.  
“I’ve might have picked up some slang from texting with my grandniece.”  
“Well, quit it. Why did you interrupt my morning routine?”  
Art smiled at his most entertaining employee. Most people found Raylan’s temper and hardheadedness too much to deal with, but Art welcomed the challenge. It kept his blood stirring. “Seriously, why are you so ornery all the time?”  
Raylan visibly relaxed his posture. “How’s this?”  
“Much better.” Art’s smile broadened. “How are you getting on with your new partner?”  
“He’s a pistol.”  
“So, it’s going good?”  
“I’d say so. Of course, he hasn’t sucked my dick yet, so I’m withholding final judgement.”  
Art cracked up. “I knew you’d be a good fit.”  
“You also know I work better alone.”  
“Yeah, and I know the reasons for that. That’s why young Tim is perfect for you.”  
Raylan made a scoffing noise.  
Art folded his hands on the desk and fixed his gaze on the East Coast’s top-performing marshal. He’d known hawk-eyed, broad-shouldered, narrow-hipped Raylan Givens was trouble the second he’d laid eyes on him as a rookie at Glynco. Raylan’s very manner of walking proclaimed that he took no shit from anybody. And Art had welcomed him with open arms, indulged him, even occasionally covered up small infractions. Because when all was said and done, Raylan Givens got the job done, and he did it in a colorful way. Now that he was back in Kentucky, Art wanted to keep him there.  
“Look here, Raylan,” he began. “I know you’re a hardass, and you can take care of yourself, but you ain’t in Miami or Atlanta anymore. I ain’t sayin’ it ain’t dangerous there, but it’s a different kind of danger here, and you know it. Sneakier. You need someone watchin’ your back.”  
“And here I thought the whole department had my back.”  
“Of course, we do!” Art paused. “Well, maybe not everybody. I’m pretty sure Theresa would throw a party if you disappeared.”  
“I’ve been back for three weeks, Art. I haven’t had time to sleep with her.”  
“Did you try?”  
“No. She’s a kid. Whatever she’s saying about me—”  
“You really don’t have a clue do you?”  
Raylan narrowed his eyes again. “You think she’s mad because I haven’t made a pass?”  
“With you, anything’s possible. Back to the main subject. Bottom line is I don’t want you gettin’ killed on me, so you’re gonna have a partner. What I want to know is how you’re gettin’ along.”  
“If I have to have a partner….” Raylan sighed. “He’s as good as I could ask for.”  
“Well, good! I am so glad.” Art beamed at Raylan.  
“You need to work on your sarcasm skills,” Raylan said. “Also, these arranged marriages are frowned on these days.”  
“Trust me. You’ll learn to love him like your mother and I did.”  
Raylan snorted. “If that’s all, I’m going to get to work.”  
“That’s all.”  
Raylan gave a little shake of his head as he left the office. As he looked up, his gaze found Tim, who was staring intently at his computer screen, his lips softly parted. Raylan looked down and found himself gazing at the way Tim’s long fingers wrapped around the mouse. He glanced over at Rachel but didn’t feel the same fascination watching her work. Tim picked up a pen and put the end in his mouth. Raylan turned away and hung up his hat.  
“What’s so mesmerizin’?” he said.  
Tim looked up, his gaze soft and blurry from staring at the screen. “What?”  
“The way you were looking at the computer, I figured you found something interesting.”  
“Oh.” Tim glanced sideways at the screen. “Yeah. I found a good, simple recipe for lasagna.”  
“Lasagna?” Raylan repeated.  
“Ever had it?” Tim deadpanned.  
“Of course. I just didn’t know you cooked.”  
“How did you think I fed myself?”  
“Same way I do, I reckon.”  
Tim shook his head. “I have no idea how you stay in such good shape. Multiple Egg McMuffins for breakfast, rib shack barbecue for lunch, and for dinner…. Well, I guess dinner could qualify as a good meal if you were on date. I can’t see a woman settling for Hardee’s. No, I got to figure you’d at least spring for Red Lobster or Olive Garden. At least, you’d probably have a salad.”  
“Thanks for being concerned about my diet. I’m touched.”  
Tim didn’t miss a beat. “That’s what I hear. Not just touched but downright certifiable.”  
“You been checking me out?”  
“Since you’re wearing tight jeans and heels, I thought you wanted me to.”  
Raylan had to smile. His Lucchese boots did indeed have stacked heels, and his jeans were a little snug. Maybe he was putting on weight.  
“If you’re done looking at Pinterest, you want to go lean on some bad guys?”  
Tim stood up and reached for his jacket in one motion. “Hell yes.”

Time break

Tim turned his gaze from the side window to the driver. “Mind telling me where we’re going, Raylan?” he asked. “I mean, we haven’t passed a road sign in miles. This is the ass of nowhere.”  
“This is where I’m from. Coal country. Couldn’t wait to get away.”  
“Then why are we here?”  
“You ever have an itch you couldn’t get to?”  
Tim gave Raylan the side-eye. “Sure, hasn’t everyone?”  
“Probably, to some degree.”  
“You coming to a point?”  
“I’ve got an itch that needs scratching.”  
“Is this personal or business?”  
Raylan glanced over at Tim. “A little of both.”  
“Does Art even know about this?”  
“Not… officially, but if I do it right, he’ll be happy about it.”  
“Uh-huh, and why did you drag me into it?”  
“To make sure it gets done right.”  
Tim sat back in his seat. “Well, okay then.”  
They traveled a few more miles in silence. Raylan paid attention to his driving. Tim looked out the window at the rising land.  
“Seriously though,” Raylan said, as they turned off onto a gravel road. “I need someone I know won’t rattle, someone I can trust to have my back.”  
“I’m all yours,” Tim said lightly.  
Raylan squinted as a little shiver ran up his spine. Something about the timbre of the kid’s voice put visions in his head of cozying up to someone—naked—in front of a fire. He shook off the inappropriate and unwelcome thoughts when he spotted a battered mailbox, a holdover from the days when the postal service still delivered this far up in the hills. He maneuvered the big car onto a steep, rock-strewn drive and dropped it into low gear.  
At the top of the short road was a piece of level land bordered by a fringe of trees. Near the back of the property was a frame house with a front porch supported on short brick columns. A few rough-looking men sat around on rocking chairs and coolers. They all stared as Raylan brought the car to a stop. Each held a firearm of some description.  
“They’re loaded for bear,” Tim observed dryly.  
“Afraid they’ll have to make do with us.” Raylan opened his door and got out.  
A slim, striking man with spiky black hair came down the front porch steps grinning at Raylan with his arms held wide. He wore a black suit with a brocade vest and a black shirt buttoned all the way to the top. Among the flannel shirts, leather vests, and camouflage jackets, he stood out like a raven among gamecocks.  
Tim didn’t like anything about this situation. He could practically smell the potential for violence in the air. He let his hand hover over his sidearm, but he stayed cool, waiting for a sign from Raylan. The old habit of deferring to a superior officer had resurfaced in Raylan’s company. Tim wasn’t sure how he felt about that but backing up a fellow marshal came naturally.  
“Boyd Crowder,” Raylan greeted the dapper man. He returned Boyd’s hug and then stepped back to give himself room to pull his sidearm if necessary.  
“Raylan Givens. It’s been a minute,” Boyd said. He looked past Raylan’s shoulder. “Who is that intense young man observing me so hostilely?”  
“That’s Tim.” Raylan glanced at Tim, tipped him a subtle wink. “Don’t worry about him. He’s just here to suck my dick if I get bored.”  
Boyd met Tim’s cool gaze. “Is that right?”  
“What can I say?” Tim shrugged. “It’s my turn.”  
Boyd chuckled. “I insist the two of you come up on the porch and have a drink. I just opened a jar of the best ‘shine you ever tasted. You remember Mags. She—”  
“This isn’t a social call,” Raylan said.  
“Well, I fail to see what else it could be,” Boyd said. “Since I am not engaging in any illicit activities whatsoever.”  
“What about the whores?”  
“I’m not in the pimp business.”  
“What about those trailers behind your cousin’s cabin?  
“Oh, you mean Ava’s whores.”  
“Ava?” Raylan frowned. “What’s she got to do with whores?”  
“You ought to come on up and sit for a while. Have a snort, talk over old times. I’ll catch you up on local gossip.”  
“Thank you, Boyd. Mighty decent of you, but like I said, I’m here on business.”  
“What are you talkin’ about? We’re practically family. How long we known each other?”  
“Long enough.”  
“You’re hurtin’ my feelin’s, Raylan.” Boyd mimed being shot through the heart. “I thought we were friends.”  
“We were.”  
Boyd flashed a bright white grin that seemed to have more than the usual complement of teeth and then called out to a long-haired man on the porch. “Billy Call, pour a round, if you please.” He gestured to Raylan. “After you.”  
Raylan smiled. “Lead the way.” He gestured to Tim to follow as he went up the steps behind Boyd. He had plenty of history with Boyd, but their paths had diverged about as far apart as possible. Raylan knew Boyd’s fingerprints were on goodly portion of the criminal activity in these parts, and the fact that they’d been friends had no bearing on Raylan’s mission, or least it shouldn’t have.  
“Have a seat.” Boyd waved to the porch swing and rocking chairs. The armed men had gone inside, leaving their boss alone with his guests. “So, Raylan,” He grinned. “Deputy Marshal Raylan Givens on my front porch.”  
“I’m here as a courtesy to tell you I’m going to clean up Harlan County, starting with you.”  
Boyd stared at Raylan for a few seconds and then burst into raucous laughter.  
“Who is this clown?” Tim asked.  
“Clown?” Boyd said melodramatically. “You goin’ to let this rookie talk about me that-a-way, Raylan?”  
Raylan pursed his lips. Coming here was beginning to seem like a very bad idea. How could he have forgotten how charismatic Boyd was? How good Boyd was with that big mouth of his. If he let Boyd keep talking, he’d end up working security for his dope runs. He needed to set some boundaries fast. “Well, young Tim here is my partner, while you are just someone I used to know, so yeah, he gets to talk to you any way he wants.”  
“Uh-huh.” Boyd looked Tim up and down and took his time about it. “You sure he’s up to it?”  
“Pretty sure,” Raylan said. “If you want my advice, don’t test him.”  
“Don’t test him?” Boyd feigned shock. “When have you known me to do such a thing?”  
“From before the time you could talk you were manipulating people, Boyd. Who do you think you’re talking to? Some no-nothing hotshot out of Lexington?”  
“I’m the no-nothing hotshot out of Lexington,” Tim clarified.  
Boyd produced his dazzling grin again. “At least the pup has a sense of humor.”  
“Let’s get back to the subject of Ava.”  
“She’s still the most beautiful woman in the bluegrass state, and she’s still holding a torch for you, if that interests you,” Boyd said.  
“Thought she married.”  
“That she did. I was there, on account of it being my brother Bowman she married.”  
“Are we really here for a family reunion?” Tim asked Raylan.  
“This don’t concern you,” Boyd said.  
“It sure don’t. I don’t find anything about you shitkickers interesting, and I don’t like wasting my time.”  
Raylan looked over at Tim. “You want to wait in the car?”  
“No, I’m good.” Tim pulled a paperback from his jacket and opened it.  
“Now that’s just rude,” Boyd told him.  
“Boyd.” Raylan waited until Boyd turned those big, deceptively innocent eyes on him. “Don’t talk to Tim. Can’t you see he’s reading?”  
“I’ll just talk to you then.” Boyd sat back and sipped his moonshine. “You really going to go against the family business?”  
“I did that the day I hired on with the marshals.”  
“Yeah, I reckon that’s right.” Boyd nodded. “It’s a real shame you turned out the way you did.”  
“What? You mean honest?”  
“You’re smart, Raylan, and you’re real handy. If you’d come and worked alongside me in the organization, you’d be rich.”  
Raylan looked around at the faded paint and broken railings. “Yeah, looks like you’re doing real well for yourself.”  
“Shit,” Boyd scoffed. “You think I live here?”  
“According to the post office you do.”  
“This is just a hideout. I keep a few boys here in reserve, so to speak. They grow a little weed, sure, but they smoke most of it.”  
“Running a tight ship, are you?”  
“Why must you always be puttin’ me down, Raylan Givens? Is it that natural instinct to compete with another alpha male? Or is it a response to your feelings of inadequacy in my presence?”  
Tim snorted, and Boyd and Raylan looked over as though they’d forgotten he was there.  
“No, you don’t make me feel inadequate,” Raylan said. “You make me feel like putting you in handcuffs.”  
“As always, I am devastated by your wit and a little bit intrigued.” Boyd took a drink.  
“As always, you imagine I don’t know when you’re insulting me.”  
“You caught that? Good. Because I am almost out of patience with you.”  
Tim looked up at the change in Boyd’s tone and put down his book.  
“Well, ain’t that some tough shit,” Raylan said. “Because I ain’t leavin’ until I’m damn good and ready. You see, I’m a U.S. Marshal, and you’re a lowlife, drug-running whoremonger, so guess who calls the shots here?” He glanced at Tim who was steady clocking Boyd, his thumb on the holster snap. Reassured, Raylan returned his attention to the alleged whoremaster. “Are we clear on that?”  
“Yeah, Raylan, we clear. Clear as mud. I’d like to hear what gives you the gall to come back here and swagger around giving orders to everybody?”  
“I believe I just explained that, and you keep your hands away from your pockets.”  
“You can kiss my ass.”  
In an eyeblink, Tim had his sidearm pointed at Boyd.  
“Hoowee!” Boyd put up his hands. “We’re havin’ fun now.” He looked over at Raylan. “I believe your boy here is almost as fast as you. Now, you want to call him off? I really do not like the way he’s lookin’ at me. Reminds me of a coyote watchin’ a chicken pen.”  
Raylan kept his eyes on Boyd. He gave Tim a hand signal and knew by Boyd’s change of expression that Tim had lowered his weapon.  
“He’s a little trigger-happy, ain’t he?” Boyd said as he put his hands down.  
“You noticed, did you?” Raylan winked at Boyd. “So glad we all understand one another now.”  
Boyd smiled lazily. “Are you really tryin’ to intimidate me?”  
“No, Boyd.” Raylan stood and Tim got to his feet. “I’m not threatening you. I’m telling you what I’m prepared to do… with Tim’s help.” He glanced at Tim, and Tim nodded without taking his eyes off Boyd.  
Boyd rose from his seat with the fluid grace of a tomcat. “Let’s hear it then.”  
“If you don’t suspend your criminal activities, I’m going to come down on you like an avalanche. Friendship or no friendship. Family ties notwithstanding. No mercy.”  
Boyd was silent for several moments. “Thanks for the warning,” he said. He leaned toward Raylan, and Tim took aim at him again. Boyd lowered his voice to speak in Raylan’s ear. “Best keep a sharp eye on that colt, you hear? He ain’t half-broke, if you ask me.”  
“Nobody asked you.” Raylan turned and walked away. “You watch your ass now, you hear?” he said without looking back.  
Tim kept his gun on Boyd until Raylan was off the porch.  
“You need to learn to relax,” Boyd said. “Do some yoga. Smoke a joint. You’re wound way too tight, pup.”  
Tim didn’t respond. He walked backward to the steps and joined Raylan at the car. “Who is that obnoxious d-bag?”  
“That—” Raylan looked at Tim over the roof of the car. “Is my oldest friend in the world.”  
“Man, you’ve got lousy taste,” Tim said.  
“Fuck you.” Raylan hid a smile as he got in the car.  
“In your dreams,” Tim replied.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raylan and Tim go to a roadhouse.

Scene 6

“Well, what do we do now?” Tim asked as Raylan sped away from Boyd’s.

Raylan unclenched his jaw. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink that won’t take the paint off my car.”

Tim squinted at the setting sun. “Well, it is the cocktail hour. You have some place in mind?”

“Can’t think of nowhere closer than Buford’s. It’s not the ambiance I would choose, but their liquor is good enough.”

“You had me at ambiance,” Tim drawled.

Buford’s was a double-wide, pre-fab building with a pot-holed gravel parking lot right off the road. A rented marquee flashed the message _Liquor in the Front, Poker in the Rear_.

“Classy,” Tim said.

Raylan went past the full parking lot and pulled onto the shoulder beyond the glare of the neon. With Tim on his heels walked to the heavily tinted door. Just inside was a narrow corridor, which Tim and Raylan both recognized as an easily defended bottleneck. A bosomy blonde sat behind a window checking i.d. Beside the window was a smooth-pated man who looked like he tipped the scales at around three hundred. A chain of tattooed swastikas encircled his thick neck. The blonde gave Raylan a dazzling smile and waved him in. Tim started to follow, but the big guy put out a hand to block him.

“I need to see some i.d., honey,” the woman said.

“You didn’t i.d. him.” Tim jerked a thumb at Raylan.

“That’s because he looks like he shaves, sugar.”

Raylan grinned. “Show her your i.d., son.”

Tim shot Raylan a filthy look as he slid his license from his wallet. He put it through the slot under the window.

“Twenty-six?” the woman said. “Honey, you don’t look a day over eighteen.”

“It’s the cross I bear.” Tim took his license back and replaced it in his wallet. “If I’ve been humiliated enough, can we go in now?”

The bouncer waved them in. They walked through the second door and into another world. In here, it was twilight. Music drifted from the programmed jukebox, billiard balls clicked, and the occasional sound of laughter rose above murmured conversations. Most of the people who came to Buford’s weren’t looking for a wild time. They were hard-working men and women looking to numb themselves before going home to bed so they could rise and break their backs again the next day.

Raylan spotted a table to left of the small stage, shunned for its proximity to the speakers. There was only one chair, but Raylan charmed an extra away from a nearby table. A waitress in cowboy boots and skin-tight gym shorts stopped to take their orders. She flirted for a minute and then walked directly to the bar, ignoring two people trying to get her attention.

Tim looked around, automatically checking out the points of ingress and egress. He focused on an anomaly among the clientele—the proverbial exception to the rule. He was beginning to think he attracted this kind of trouble.

At a table near the dart board was a group of four that set off alarm bells. Three bore a strong resemblance to one another: porky, bearded, and bearing swastika tattoos. The fourth was a scrawny guy who probably wouldn’t meet the height requirement for the really good roller coaster. He had a narrow face, dark eyes, and prominent teeth. He was telling dirty jokes in a loud voice. His companions brayed laughter after each punchline.

The waitress returned with two beers and two shots plus a bottle of Wild Turkey. “Not that I mind comin’ back over,” she said. “But it’s gonna get real busy real soon.”

“Much appreciated, darlin’,” Raylan said.

“If you want anything else, you just holler for Genie, you hear?” She simpered. “Anything at all.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Raylan watched Genie walk away.

“Turn you on?” Tim said.

“Are you kidding?”

“No. I’m interested in what interests you.”

“You’re weird.”

“No shit.” Tim tossed back his shot.

Raylan poured him a fresh one. “Same question.”

“What?”

“Does Genie turn you on?”

“Not particularly.”

Raylan drank his shot and poured another one. “You don’t like trashy redheads?”

“Pick another subject.”

“All right.” Raylan looked around. “I got nothin’,” he said a few moments later.

“So, it’s sex or nothing with you?” Tim knocked back the second shot.

“You been talking to my exes?”

“How many you got?”

“It’s a goodly number.”

Tim chuckled.

“What?”

“I just think that macho shit is funny.”

“Fuck you. I am not that guy.”

“Sure, you are. Christ, just look at you.”

“What’s wrong with me?”

Tim shook his head. “You’re missing the point. There’s nothing wrong with the way you look. You’re a very handsome man.”

“Really?”

“Fuck off. You know you’re a looker.”

“It’s not intentional.”

“Yeah, that’s the really annoying part. You don’t have to try. You wake up looking like that.”

“You jealous?”

“Maybe a little. Would I want to look like you? A six-footer with broad shoulders, chiseled features, and eyes like a hawk? Sure, why not?”

Raylan frowned. “This is a weird conversation.” He poured two more shots. “All right!” he said, his mood changing abruptly, as a new song came on. “This is my jam.”

Tim raised his eyebrows. “Really.”

“Yeah, I love this song.”

Tim hid a smile as he listened to Carrie Underwood’s “Before He Cheats.” He looked over his shoulder as a raucous burst of laughter drowned out the music. “You mind?” he called out to the four drunks. “I’m trying to hear the song.”

“No, I don’t mind,” said the biggest man. He turned his face to the ceiling and howled like a baboon who gargled regularly with drain cleaner. His buddies joined him.

“Assholes,” Tim said.

“Forget it,” Raylan said. “It ain’t worth it. I got it on CD anyway.”

“Shitheads like that make my ass want a soda cracker,” Tim said.

“Say what?”

“Never mind. You want to find somewhere else to drink?”

“Well, I paid for this bottle. I suppose we could drink it in the car.”

“You really are a low-rent….” Tim’s voice trailed off as Raylan’s eyes went hard as topaz. “They’re coming over here, aren’t they?”

Raylan nodded. “I’m afraid so.” He stood up and Tim did the same, turning to face the thugs.

“Hey, smartass,” said the scrawny guy. “What makes you think you can disrespect us?”

“You’re the ones being loud and obnoxious,” Tim said.

Raylan groaned. “Tim, come on, man.”

“Listen to your boyfriend, Tim,” said the pig-faced man on the right.

“My boyfriend?” Tim shook his head. “I’m offended. You really think I can’t do better than him?”

The gang looked confused for a few seconds and then the skinny one spoke. “I think we’re gonna kick your asses on general principle.”

Raylan put a hand on his hip, drawing back his jacket to reveal his handgun. “You sure you want to do that?”

“You got a gun. Big fuckin’ deal. We all got guns.” The scrawny man sneered and then barked “Get ‘em!”

Tim and Raylan dove in opposite directions and ran for the nearest exits. Half-drunk, neither was interested in starting a gun battle in the roadhouse. However, the porcine triplets were faster than they looked. One of the burly men caught Raylan by the shoulder and spun him around. A fist like a picnic ham was on a collision course with Raylan’s face. Raylan dropped to the floor and the punch passed over his head. He scrambled away on all fours until he could get to his feet. As he pushed the bar on the fire exit, a bullet hit the door by his shoulder and showered him with splinters. Another shell spanged off the door frame as Raylan threw himself forward. He landed hard on the gravel, rolled to his feet, and ran into the wooded lot next to Buford’s. Crouching under the skirts of an evergreen, he looked back at the roadhouse, staring intently. He nearly had a heart attack when Tim spoke in his ear.

“What are you looking at?”

“Cheese and rice!” Raylan hissed. “Don’t you ever do that again.”

“Sorry,” Tim said unconvincingly. A glint of light from the corner of the roadhouse caught his eye. “Run,” he said.

Raylan didn’t hesitate. He raced away as bullets tore through the trees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

Scene 7

“Jesus Christ!” Tim stopped running when he hit the trunk of Raylan’s car. He looked over at Raylan. “I can’t believe we’re still alive.”

Raylan caught his breath. “It’s a fuckin’ miracle.” As he listened for sounds of continued pursuit, which he didn’t hear, he looked Tim over for injuries. If one of those lowlifes had shot the kid…. Raylan shook his head. He was pretty sure Tim could take care of himself, but an injured partner reflected badly on him. “Get in the car,” he barked.

“You don’t want to report shots fired on U.S. Marshals?”

“Not really. You?”

Tim yanked open the passenger door and slid in. Raylan fired the engine and raced off without turning on the headlights. A few miles down the road, he pulled over and eased in among the trees. Breathing hard, he turned the key off as he stared through the windshield. When he’d calmed down a little, he looked over and met Tim’s wide-eyed gaze. They locked eyes and froze, unable to look away.

A fierce emotion took possession of Raylan. It was irrational, but he couldn’t stop it. He didn’t want to. He wanted to see what happened next, if he acted on the impulse. He wondered if Tim felt it too.

“You’ve got a really strange look on your face,” Tim said.

Without warning, Raylan leaned across the short distance that separated them, cupped the back of Tim’s head, and claimed Tim’s mouth. The feel of warm silky skin against his lips was intoxicating. Raylan wanted more, but Tim pulled away.

Tim stared at Raylan in the dim light. “What the hell are you doing?” His voice came out thick and scratchy-sounding.

“I swear, I don’t know.”

“It felt an awful lot like you kissed me.”

“Do we have to talk?” Raylan said. “Can’t we just—?”

“Are you kidding me? No. Of course, we can’t.”

Boldly, as it was the only way he knew how to act, Raylan put his hand on Tim’s crotch and squeezed. He was a veteran of many vehicle-oriented amorous encounters, though his partners had all been women up until now. He was in uncharted territory, but he figured if he did to Tim what he’d wanted those women to do to him, Tim would probably like it. And it was important that Tim liked it.

“Jesus,” Tim breathed as Raylan’s fingers moved on his rapidly hardening cock. “Rayl—”

Raylan cut off Tim’s sentence by pressing him against the side door and once again covering Tim’s mouth with his. He pushed his tongue past Tim’s lips and then his teeth as he rubbed the hard ridge in Tim’s jeans.

Tim knew he should put up at least a token fight, but he didn’t because it felt so damned good. It had been quite a while since anyone had touched him like this, and he didn’t want it to end. But of course, it did and quickly. He was just too keyed up to do anything but explode.

Raylan knew the instant Tim came, though the signs were subtle—a shiver and a sharp inhale. He gave Tim’s crotch a last gentle squeeze and drew back.

“Fuck.” Tim drew a deep, shuddering breath. “You know this is crazy, right?” he said without opening his eyes.

“Everybody knows I’m crazy. Do you have a point?”

Tim’s features tightened. “I just don’t want any misunderstandings. Did we just do what I think we did?”

“Yeah.” Raylan paused. “Well, I did anyway. You just kind of… let me.”

“My abject apologies. I would have kicked your ass, but you took me by surprise.”

“At last. I’ve been trying to shake you up since I met you.”

“Mission accomplished.” Tim met Raylan’s gaze. “Is that why you did it? Because I could almost accept that explanation.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Hell, I don’t know, Raylan. This is freaking me out.”

“You think I ain’t freaked out?”

“You seemed awful sure of yourself.”

“It ain’t in me to back off once I get started.”

“What is it you wanted exactly?”

“I want you.” Raylan wrapped his fingers around the steering wheel to keep from touching Tim again. “I don’t know why, and right now, I don’t care. I just want to—”

“What?”

Raylan put the car into gear. “I want to find the nearest motel.”

“Is that a good idea?”

“Listen, Mr. I Got Mine, I still have a raging hard-on, and I think we should go somewhere else. Objections?”

“What about the Budget Inn off the interstate?”

Raylan hit the gas. It was a tense and silent ride as each man questioned the wisdom of staying this course, each half-hoping/half-fearing the other would call a halt to the madness. However, when Raylan pulled into a space in the parking lot of the Budget Inn, neither showed signs of backing down. Raylan went into the office and came back with an old-fashioned key attached to an enormous piece of diamond-shaped plastic. Tim took the key from his hand and opened the door to the room.

Tim flipped on the light. “Christ on a cracker,” he exclaimed as the shabby furnishings were revealed.

Raylan turned the light back off and slammed Tim up against the wall beside the switch. Acting on pure instinct, he grabbed Tim’s wrists and pinned them to the wall above his head. In the same motion, he fastened his mouth on Tim’s and kissed him like he meant it. He liked the way Tim clutched his shoulders like he was afraid he’d fall to the floor if he didn’t hold on to something. Raylan’s lips moved insistently on Tim’s, his tongue probing the seam of Tim’s lips. He pushed a knee between Tim’s legs and pressed his thigh against Tim’s crotch. Letting more of his weight rest on Tim, he kept him pinned to the wall.

Tim turned his head, breaking the kiss. His heart was pounding so hard, he was surprised Raylan didn’t hear it. It felt as thought the temperature in the room had risen by at least ten degrees, and he couldn’t catch his breath. “Raylan,” he gasped.

Raylan groaned. “Don’t spoil it. It’s going so well.”

“It’s crazy.”

“I’m not arguing.” Raylan fetched a deep sigh. “You want to stop?” he asked reluctantly.

Tim took a shaky breath. “Not really.” He dropped his eyes. “I know I came ten minutes ago, but I’m so turned on, I’d probably come again if you so much as looked at my dick.”

“Yeah.” Raylan nodded. “That’s exactly how I feel.”

“Ain’t it weird though?”

“Oh, it’s thoroughly weird, but… I’m strangely okay with it. You?”

“Well, let me see. Based on that hand job in the car, anything more is likely to put me in a coma, so… hell yeah, I’m game.”

“Outstanding.” Raylan used Tim’s favorite superlative. “I’m tired of talking now.”

“Just one more thing.”

“Yeah?” Raylan said impatiently.

“We can’t ever let anyone find out about this.”

“No shit.”

Raylan kissed Tim again, and this time, Tim opened for him. This time Tim participated, and their tongues slid together in an erotic preview. Raylan felt Tim grow hard against his thigh and reacted by pressing closer. As he thrust his tongue into Tim’s mouth, he ground his pelvis against Tim’s groin. Tim moaned, and Raylan’s dick, already hard, pulsed in response to the small, needy sound. He took hold of Tim by the biceps and steered him to the bed.

Tim went without resistance, falling to his back on the bed. He wasn’t normally passive, but he sensed that Raylan needed to guide things through the first steps of this dance. He was as curious as Raylan was, and the last thing he wanted to do was spook him. So, he let Raylan pull open his pearl snap shirt and get used to the novelty of running his hands over hard muscles. He kept his reactions small until Raylan ran his fingertip lightly up his ribs.

“Ticklish?” Raylan asked, eyes gleaming wickedly.

“Little bit.” Tim fixed Raylan with a baleful stare. “Don’t even think about it.”

“I have to.”

Raylan dug his fingers into Tim’s ribs until Tim was writhing and flailing helplessly under him, and then the mood changed back to white-hot lust. Aroused to a fever pitch by the wrestling, he fastened his mouth on Tim’s and rotated his hips, dragging his hard-on against Tim’s crotch. Tim hooked a leg over Raylan’s and lifted his pelvis, increasing the contact, meeting Raylan’s thrust solidly.

Raylan broke the marathon kiss to take a big breath. Sex had never felt quite this good, and he hadn’t even taken off his pants yet. As Tim kept pointing out, this was weird and crazy, but Raylan didn’t even consider stopping.

Tim ran his hands down Raylan’s back and cupped his buttocks. He squeezed the resilient muscles as Raylan increased his pace. “Don’t… stop,” he said in a choked voice.  
Raylan obliged. With each thrust, each pass, the friction stoked that reliable fire at his core. All vestiges of restraint became smoke and blew away in the hot wind of the wildfire that swept through him. “Fuck,” he groaned as a whirlwind of sparks gathered in his belly.

“Let it go,” Tim said breathlessly.

Raylan pinned Tim’s hands to the mattress, twining their fingers together, and went into overdrive. He swallowed Tim’s cry of pleasure and felt him shudder through his release. The orgasm he’d barely been holding off rolled over him like flood waters, leaving him limp in its wake. His face ended up in one of his favorite places—the tender crook of a neck damp with sex-sweat. He sighed happily and drifted off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued.


	8. Chapter 8

Scene 8

Raylan woke disoriented. This wasn’t his pillow. This wasn’t his bedroom; even in the dimness, he could tell. A blade of light cut through the crack between the curtains, illuminating the cover of a paperback book and the profile of the man reading it.

Tim looked up, met Raylan’s eyes, and time hung suspended.

“Mornin’,” Raylan mumbled.

“Sure is.” Tim pushed a Styrofoam cup across the table. “Coffee?”

“I’d kill for some.” Raylan eased out of bed, keenly aware he was buck naked, though he didn’t remember getting undressed. He thought about wrapping a sheet around him but gave up the idea as ridiculous. He doubted there was an area of his body Tim hadn’t seen. That should probably bother him more than it did.

Tim kept his eyes on his book as Raylan pulled on his jeans. When Raylan sat down at the scarred table, Tim finally looked up.

“That book any good?” Raylan asked after taking a sip of his coffee.

“It’s holding my interest.”

“Hmmm.” Raylan drank more coffee. “So… I feel like maybe we should talk about this or something.”

“Yeah.” Tim sounded less than enthusiastic. “I reckon we got to.”

“Unless you don’t want to?” Raylan said hopefully.

“Rather not.” Tim closed the book and set it down. “What happened happened. Can’t change it so we have to deal with it, but I don’t think we need to discuss much.”  
A huge weight lifted from Raylan’s chest. “Well all right, then, Tim. I’m okay with that.”

“Not only do we never have to talk about it, it never has to happen again.”

Raylan looked startled.

“What? I’m just sayin’ I know you ain’t gay. Something freaky happened to us, but we can forget about it and go on with our lives.”

“Is that how you really feel?”

“You’re confusin’ me, Raylan. I’m graciously giving you an out, and you’re not takin’ it.”

“I was just kind of hoping it would happen again.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “That’s a whole ‘nother topic.”

“Should we talk about it now, or should I go have a shower?”

“Would you please?”

“Fuck you,” Raylan said as he got up.

“Been there, done that.” Tim’s eyes were already back on the printed page.

Time break

Raylan stood under the inadequate spray of water until he felt like he’d washed off a layer of sex, and then dried as much of himself as he could with one of the two threadbare towels. The other one was already damp, and he assumed Tim had cleaned up earlier. When he came out of the bathroom in his jeans, Tim was still reading.

“What is that anyway?”

“Old science fiction.”

“Is it like aliens and shit?”

“Sure.”

Raylan picked up his cup and sipped the tepid liquid. “I could use a real cup of coffee.”

“As opposed to a virtual one?”

“What?”

“Never mind.” Tim put aside The Left Hand of Darkness. “You want to go get breakfast?”

“Yes, I do. I can get dressed in two minutes.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Why?”

“Don’t let it go to your head, but the sight of you in nothing but a pair of tight jeans is not hard on the eyes.”

“Why, thank you, Tim.” Raylan quickly buttoned his shirt. He didn’t exactly feel self-conscious, but it was strange to be in this situation with a man, and he was scrambling to adjust. Tim, meanwhile, was as insouciant as ever. “Shit. I’ve lost my mind.” Raylan slapped his forehead. “I never intended to stay out all night. I ought to check in.”

“I already did. Art said to take the day off.”

“He did?”

Tim held up two fingers in the Boy Scout salute. “I gathered from his ramblings that he approves of our mission, though he’ll probably disavow all knowledge, if we get ourselves perished.”

“Mhmm. How would you feel about going to an IHOP?”

“How could anyone resist an International House of Pancakes?”

“I sure as hell can’t.” Raylan shrugged into his corduroy jacket. “They’ll serve you ice cream for breakfast.”

Tim shook his head as he followed Raylan out to the car. Though he’d never let on, he was thrown by this new element in his nascent relationship with his partner. Nothing about Raylan hinted at a propensity for bisexuality, but here they were, fresh from a night of what could only be described as gay sex. He wasn’t surprised at himself; he had a certain flexibility that he didn’t like to examine too closely. Raylan, however…. The only thing flexible about him was that superbly toned body.

Tim found himself watching Raylan’s excellent ass as he walked behind him to the Lincoln. He sighed. He hated it when life got interesting.

Time break

Raylan cleared his throat as he pulled the Town Car onto the road.

“Go ahead and say whatever you want to say,” Tim said.

“How are we going to handle this? I mean… are we just going to pretend it didn’t happen?”

“If that’s what you want. I thought we settled this back at the motel.”

“I don’t know what I want.” Raylan thought for a few seconds. “That’s not quite true. I know I want you. That much I’m sure of.” He glanced down at his crotch.  
“Me too. How weird is that?”

“I believe I’ve already stipulated the weirdness of the entire thing.” Raylan glanced over at Tim. “Maybe I’ll never know why, but in that moment, I just had to… kiss you. And it sort of escalated from there. I can’t explain.”

“I know what you’re saying. It just kind of picks you up and carries you along. You know it’s wrong, but you can’t stop.”

“Yeah, somethin’ like that.” Raylan frowned. “You really think we did wrong?”

“Only according to most of society.”

“Oh, them. Never paid them much mind.”

Tim smiled. “That’s what I hear.”

“Honestly, I don’t know how to handle it. It’s unique in my experience, as they say.” Raylan glanced at Tim. “Are you good with letting it hang fire for now?”

“So good.”

“I’m doin’ my best to act like it ain’t nothin’, but… you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“So, we let it ride?”

“Yes, Raylan, we let it ride. We let it hang fire. We see how it goes. If you want to think up another cliché that means the same thing, knock yourself out, but don’t do it on my account.”

“Well… thanks for being so understanding.” Raylan pulled into a spot at the back of the IHOP. “I’ll buy you breakfast.”

“The least you can do after violating me.” Tim hid a smile as he opened his door and got out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breakfast at IHOP with Boyd and Ava.

Scene 9

“Raylan Givens!” Boyd Crowder waved from his corner booth at IHOP. “Bring ‘em on over here, darlin’,” he said to the waitress.

“We’re fine,” Raylan said.

“Don’t be so mule-headed,” Boyd said loudly. “Surely, you won’t be tainted by having breakfast with me.”

The stunning blonde woman sitting with Boyd smiled at Raylan. “Lookin’ good, Raylan,” she said.

“As are you, Ava. You look like a spring morning in the holler.”

“Ain’t you sweet. Come on and set down.” She patted the seat next to her.

Tim sat down. “Thanks,” he said.

“Who’s your friend?” Ava asked Raylan.

“He’s not a friend, darlin’,” Boyd told her. “He’s a U.S. Marshal like Raylan.”

Ava nodded. “Got tired of lone-wolfin’ it, Raylan?”

“That’s my business.” Raylan looked across the table at Boyd. “Let’s talk about your business.”

“Are you going to give me economic advice?” Boyd inquired.

“More like legal advice,” Tim drawled.

“That’s right,” Raylan said. He cleared his throat. “I’m a fair man. You’d agree, right, Tim?” He waited for Tim’s nod. “That’s why we’re going to sit here like civilized people and eat some pancakes, even though one of us is a lowlife pimp. Then, Boyd, you’re going to go shut down your business or move it to another county. Are we clear?”

“I heard you the first time, Raylan.”

The waitress came to pour coffee and take Raylan and Tim’s orders. As soon as she was out of earshot, Boyd spoke.

“Why are you being such a hard-ass? Wouldn’t it be easier to just forget I exist except for when a fat envelope shows up in your mailbox?”

“Are you trying to bribe me?” Raylan set down his mug.

Tim sipped his hot, black coffee, scowling like he’d rather throw it in Boyd’s face.

“No, of course not,” Boyd said. “I know you cain’t be bribed. I was just presenting a hypothetical situation to sooth your wrath at me.” He paused and looked intently at Raylan. “You don’t look particularly filled with rage at the moment though.”

“I’m here to have my favorite breakfast. Putting you on notice was a happy accident.”

“Raylan Givens, you are going to lose your reputation as a lady-killer if you start taking men to breakfast.” Ava laughed.

Raylan glanced at Tim. He couldn’t help it. Ava saw the glance and the sheepish smirks that accompanied it. Interesting.

“What are you doing these days?” Raylan asked Ava.

“I’m part-owner of a beauty salon. It’s just a bitsy place, but it’s a livin’, and me bein’ a widow and all, it’s hard to make ends meet.”

“I keep tryin’ to talk her into goin’ into business with me,” Boyd said.

Raylan’s expression changed so quickly that Tim reached for his sidearm. “Don’t,” Raylan said, whether to Tim or Boyd was moot. “Ava, honey, I hope you’re smart enough to stay away from this criminal.”

Before Ava could answer, the waitress arrived with their food. In front of Raylan, she set his special order: a plate with a Belgian waffle topped with vanilla ice cream, strawberry syrup, hot fudge, and whipped cream.

“Is it your birthday?” Ava giggled.

“Yeah, he’s a big boy now wearing pull-ups and everything,” Tim said.

Ava and Boyd chuckled. Raylan gave Tim a reproachful look. Tim didn’t see it. He was tucking into his lumberjack breakfast. Ava and Boyd shared an omelet and some pancakes in between watching Raylan demolish the sundae.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a man get so much enjoyment out of eating something,” Boyd remarked.

“I have,” Tim said.

Raylan burst into laughter that sent the remains of the whipped cream flying. “Sorry.” He wiped his face. “It struck me funny.”

Ava sat back. “Well, will you look at this. Raylan Givens with a big, ol’ smile on his face.”

“What has transported you to this happy place?” Boyd asked. “Did you lock up a meth cook or something?”

“I’m glad you reminded me,” Raylan said. “I know you don’t fool with that poison, but if you were to have knowledge of any such, I’d appreciate a call.”

“That’s you all over,” Boyd said. “A threat and a favor.”

“You gettin’ nostalgic?”

“I am,” Ava said. “Seein’ you reminds me of high school. I used to love being up in the bleachers watchin’ you strike out the other team.”

“Been a long time since I played ball, darlin’.”

Ava ran her eyes over Raylan’s frame. “You appear to still be capable.”

“I have a wonderful idea,” Boyd said.

“Here we go,” Tim said under his breath.

“Imagine, if you will, a local baseball league,” Boyd went on. “The Lawmen and the Outlaws locked together in a race for the pennant.”

Raylan looked over at Ava. “Do you have any influence over him?” He pointed at Boyd.

“You know better than that.” Ava picked up her purse. “Come on, Boyd. You can drop me off at work. Bye, Raylan. Don’t be a stranger. I’ll give you a discount on a haircut.” She looked at Tim. “You too, whatever your name might be.”

Tim stood up. “Ma’am, I’m Timothy B. Gutterson, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Ava extended her hand and Tim took it. She looked pleased when he guided her out of the booth. “Always nice to make the acquaintance of a gentleman.” She looked pointedly at Raylan and Boyd in turn.

“I think that’s my cue,” Boyd said. “I’m sure we’ll meet again soon.” He followed Ava to the cashier.

Raylan sat and then turned to look at Tim. “Timothy B.?”

“Forget about it.” Tim spread jam on the last triangle of toast.

“Okay… for now.” Raylan stared as the piece of bread disappeared into Tim’s mouth. “Seriously, though, where are you putting it?”

“What?”

“All that food. You have a belly like a drumhead.”

“Hang on. I didn’t know we were going to use analogies.” Tim paused, as Raylan watched him with a bemused expression. “Okay, I got one,” Tim said. “Your ass is like two halves of a cantaloupe.”

“That’s….” Raylan picked up his mug. “Very flattering.”

“Facts are facts.” Tim looked at Ava’s abandoned plate. “Pass me that bacon?”

Time break

Art looked out his office window again and shook his head. It was downright unnerving. Raylan Givens had a smile on his face, and it had been there all day. Something wasn’t right. Art could feel it, and it was starting to irritate him.

“Raylan,” he called through the open door. “Let’s talk for a minute.” He watched Raylan glance over at his partner before leaving his desk. “You don’t have to check with Gutterson.”

“It’s my day to watch him, boss,” Tim told Art.

“Good man.” Art closed the door behind Raylan and went to his desk.

“What do you need?” Raylan asked as he sat.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Besides Boyd Crowder’s whorehouse?”

“What?”

“I’m not looking for a date, Art. I aim to shut it down.”

“All right, then.” Art squinted at Raylan. “You look different.”

“What?”

“You look… I don’t know… happy?”

“Well surely it isn’t the first time you’ve seen me happy.”

Art tilted his head to the side. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you look this happy.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll go right back to looking unhappy.”

“I’m not criticizing you; just remarking on it.”

“I see.”

“Care to share your secret?”

Raylan started to retort, but he changed his mind. The truth was, he couldn’t share his secret. And that got under his skin, like a tiny splinter.  
“If you must know, I’ve started eating more salads.”

Art frowned in thought for a moment. “Oh, I get it. Well, good for you. Last thing you want is for something to go wrong with your colon. My late mother-in-law—”

“I’m going to stop you there, Art.” Raylan got up. “As fascinatin’ as I’m sure that story is, I’ve got work to do.”

“Okay, though I don’t know why you’re here when I gave you the day off.”

“I’ve got an itch, Art."

“Oh. Well… you go on then. Give the Crowders hell.”

“That is my intention.” Raylan left the office.

Art watched Raylan stroll to Tim’s desk. He watched Raylan lean on Tim’s shoulder to look at something on the computer screen. He watched the way Tim was at ease with Raylan so far inside his personal space. Art smiled. Maybe this partnership would benefit both men. Raylan had stopped being so moody, and Tim wasn’t half as skittish as he’d been when he arrived. Maybe he could give himself a pat on the back after all. He was so pleased, he didn’t even blink when Raylan and Tim left the office without informing anyone of what they were doing. It was their day off, after all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This thing between us ain't goin' away."

Scene 10

Raylan looked up and down the hall and then pulled Tim into a hug in the elevator alcove. It was risky, but he wasn’t thinking about that. He just wanted to feel Tim’s warmth.

Tim recoiled violently. “What the hell? We talked about this.”

Raylan ignored Tim’s reprimand. Something else had caught his attention. “Check me on something; am I getting taller?”

“What? No. What are you babbling about?”

“I’d swear that yesterday I was two inches taller than you. Today it’s more like four inches.”

“That’s because you’re six feet tall and I’m five-nine.”

“What the hell happened?”

“I ditched the heels.”

Raylan looked down at Tim’s feet. Tim had indeed switched out his western boots for a pair of ropers. “Huh.”

“I need a steady platform more than I need two inches,” Tim said.

Raylan smiled. “Yeah, right. You know you love that two inches.”

Tim burst into laughter making Rachel, who was coming down the hall, look over at him.

“If you two don’t have anything to do…,” she said.

“Uh, no, we got plenty,” Raylan said quickly. The elevator bell dinged. “We got to go.” He shoved Tim into the open elevator.

Rachel stared at them until the doors closed.

As soon as the doors closed, Raylan started talking again. “Look, I don’t know what this thing is between us, but it ain’t goin’ away.” He leaned a hand on the wall next to Tim’s head and gazed down at him.

“No, it ain’t,” Tim agreed.

“I want to see you.”

“You’re lookin’ at me.” One corner of Tim’s mouth quirked upward.

“Come on. Don’t make this harder.”

“But I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“That’s funny, but I ain’t in the mood to trade double entendres with you.”

“Sorry. I can’t help it. Talkin’ about this makes me jumpy, and my default mode is mockery.”

“Yeah. I know.” Raylan put a hand on Tim’s shoulder. “When can we meet up?”

“I’m not busy right now.”

“Don’t tease me.” Raylan squeezed Tim’s shoulder as he gazed into his eyes.

And that’s when the elevator door opened.

“Raylan,” exclaimed his ex-wife.

Raylan took his hand off Tim and put a smile on his face. “Hi, Winona.”

“Hey. I heard you were back, and I knew we’d probably run into each other, but I’m still a little….”

“I’m not intendin’ to make your life uncomfortable, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Good, because I’m sure you could if you wanted to.”

“Is that what you think of me?”

“Raylan, don’t start, okay? Just let me be glad to see you.”

“You’re right. Let’s start over.” Raylan took off his hat. “Tim, this is my ex-wife Winona. Winona, this is my partner Tim.”

“Partner?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tim confirmed.

“Oh, you poor lamb. If you’d like some advice?”

“Please.”

“Just throw him a few pounds of raw meat twice a day, and you’ll be fine.”

“Way ahead of you there,” Tim said and managed to keep a straight face. “Anything else?”

“He’s a heartbreaker, but that doesn’t apply to you, now, does it?”

“I sure hope not, ma’am.”

Winona grinned. “I like him, Raylan. Where’d you get him?”

“He picked me out at the pound himself,” Tim said.

“Cute,” Winona said. “Raylan, welcome back. I should get to work.” She walked away quickly, heels tapping on the linoleum, silky hair flowing.

“That’s a fine-looking woman,” Tim said. “A real thoroughbred.”

Raylan gave him a curious look before he started down the hall to the garage. “What about Ava?”

“The bombshell from breakfast?”

“That’s the one.”

“She makes a hell of an impression.”

“Huh. So, you do like women.”

“I like women just fine.” Tim held open the door at the end of the hall so Raylan could walk through. “I just don’t want to have sex with them.”

Raylan shot Tim a look over his shoulder. Tim shrugged.

“I was wondering about that,” Raylan said after they got in the car.

“That?”

“Have you ever slept with a girl?”

“Yeah.” Tim buckled his seat belt. “Let’s go.”

“Okay.” Raylan backed out of the space and drove to the exit. The guard in the kiosk waved him through the gate. “So, was it so bad you never wanted to do it again?”

“No.”

Raylan pulled onto the road behind a UPS van. “Then what?”

“It just didn’t thrill me like I thought it should. I mean, I got off and all, which was nice, but I didn’t hear angels singing or anything like that. I could get the same result from jerking off. I tried it again a little while later with another girl, but it was just…. It wasn’t what I expected, I guess.” Tim fell silent.

“Is that it?” Raylan asked after a few seconds passed.

“Why don’t you just take out your pocketknife and skin me?”

“Point taken. Sorry. I’m just curious.”

As they passed the town limits, Tim spoke. “I was in boot camp when I found out why skyrockets didn’t go off when I kissed a girl.”

Raylan thought back to the loss of his virginity. It happened under a bridge with the creek nearby and crickets chirping in the twilight. He’d been a few months shy of his fourteenth birthday; she was sixteen, and as he saw it, imparted priceless knowledge that changed his life. It appeared Tim’s experience had been different. “I’d like to hear about it.”

Tim sighed. “My assigned spotter trainee at sniper camp was a big, blond guy from Santa Cruz, California, named Jesse Burdine. He was a surfer and complained a lot about his head bein’ shaved, but he was a good guy, you know? He loved movies. When we had a pass, we’d go to the movies instead of the strip joints. Then one time, he reached over for popcorn and put his hand on my dick. I thought it was an accident until he started stroking me.”

“What did you do?”

“I know I should have kicked his butt, but I didn’t. It felt so amazingly good that I didn’t do anything. Both of us stared straight ahead, and I let him jerk me off while we watched some zombie cannibal movie. When I came, I swear, it was so good, I thought I was going to pass out. That’s when I knew what I was.”

“And after?”

“I returned the favor.”

“Always the gentleman.”

Tim was grateful to Raylan for lightening the moment, but he still retorted. “I give lessons, if you’re interested.”

“You bet I’m interested. In fact, I can’t recall the last time I was this interested.”

Tim looked over as Raylan made a right turn; Raylan winked. A few minutes later, Raylan drove down an embankment and parked under a trestle.

“Really?” Tim said. “Are we going to make out in the car like a couple of sophomores?”

“I sure hope so.” Raylan gripped Tim’s jaw and pulled him forward. “Are you turned on or not?”

Tim closed the gap, taking Raylan’s mouth in a hungry kiss.

“Whoa,” Raylan said when the kiss ended. “You’ve got skills.” He frowned. “Why you been holdin’ out on me?”

“Didn’t want you to think I was a slut.”

“Darlin’, that ship has sailed.” Raylan punctuated his retort by biting Tim’s earlobe.

Tim sucked in a sharp breath.

“Oh yeah?” Raylan looked into Tim’s eyes. “You like that?”

“I’ll show you what I like, cowboy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a visit to Johnny Crowder, Raylan and Tim enjoy some quality time.

Scene 11

Raylan drove to Johnny Crowder’s place in a daze. Sex in a back seat with Tim Gutterson was like going eight seconds with a Tasmanian devil—not a real one, but the one from the cartoons, the one that spun around like a tornado. He felt slightly battered, lightly bruised, and very, very satisfied. He cast a fond glance at the man in the passenger seat.

“What?” Tim said.

“Nothin’. Just lookin’.”

“How ‘bout lookin’ at the road?”

Raylan looked out the windshield in time to swerve and avoid hitting a goat in the middle of the road. “You couldn’t warn me?”

“I trust your reflexes.”

“Thanks.” Raylan squinted up at the wooden arch over the road. “That’s new.”

“Goat Ranch,” Tim read aloud.

“I think I know how it got the name.” Raylan spun the steering wheel though a switchback curve. “I forgot how much I hate driving around here.”

“I’d be happy to—”

“That’s okay. I’ve got the seat adjusted just how I like it. Took a lot of tweaking.”

“I understand. By the way, man with a shotgun on the left behind that big rock.”

“Thanks. Got him.” Raylan touched his hat brim to the graybeard as he drove by.

The road ended in a space the size of a couple of football fields cleared out of the trees. Mobile homes in various stages of decline dotted the area behind a one-story frame house, similarly afflicted. Raylan parked in front of the house and blew his horn. In a few seconds, the screen door opened, and a man limped onto the porch. He was black-haired and blue-eyed and looked like an older, slower Boyd Crowder, but without the sartorial flair.

“Johnny,” Raylan called out. “It’s been a long time.”

“Not long enough,” Johnny replied. “What do you want, Raylan?”

“I want you to stop makin’ a livin’ rentin’ out pussy.”

“You want a drink or somethin’?” Johnny said as though Raylan hadn’t spoken.

“No thank you,” Raylan said. “I believe I’ll conduct an inspection of the premises.”

“On what cause?”

“He already told you,” Tim said.

“Who’s the kid?” Johnny asked Raylan.

“Don’t worry about it. Now, I’m going to tell you what I told Boyd.”

Johnny held up a hand. “No need. Boyd already told me.”

The door opened behind Johnny and a young woman walked onto the porch. She was wearing a teddy and a thong in matching hot pink. Her cleavage was impressive, and it was obvious from the brevity of the thong that she waxed. Aware of the impact of her looks, she strutted over to stand beside Johnny.

“Well, hello, handsome.” She smiled at Raylan.

“What’s your name, darlin’?” Raylan asked.

“I’m Brandy.”

“Of course, you are,” Tim murmured.

A smile tugged at Raylan’s lips, but he controlled it. “Brandy, what’s your relationship with Johnny here? Are you like a girlfriend? Housekeeper?”

Brandy giggled. “You ain’t from around here, are you?”

“Shut up,” Johnny said from between clenched teeth.

“That’s no way to talk to a lady,” Raylan admonished. “I’m listenin’, Miss Brandy.”

“Everyone knows the Goat Ranch is where you go to a have a big time.” Brandy winked at Raylan. “Girls, gamblin’, and go-pills. We got it all.”

“Is that right?” Raylan said. “I’m from out of town. Would you recommend I avail myself of your services?”

Johnny looked as though he was having an aneurysm. “Hush now, gal,” he said.

Brandy rolled her eyes at him and gave her attention back to Raylan. “I’ll make sure you have real good time, handsome.” She glanced at Tim. “And your friend, too. If that’s how you roll.”

“No offense, ma’am,” Tim said. “But you ain’t my type.”

“You ain’t seen all of me yet.” Brandy winked again.

Raylan exchanged a glance with Tim. “Well then,” Raylan said. “I think we can all agree that was solicitation. Tim?”

“I felt as though I was solicited.”

Brandy frowned. “You cops?”

“I tried to tell you,” Johnny said.

“Try harder next time, numb nuts. Ava’s gonna have both our asses if we get raided.”

“This ain’t a raid,” Raylan said, setting aside his dismay at hearing Ava’s name in this setting. “If it was, it would be a lot louder.” He addressed Johnny. “You’ve got forty-eight hours, Johnny.”

“And then what?”

“Then I’m comin’ for you.” Raylan glanced over his shoulder. “And I’m bringin’ Tim with me.”

“I’m shakin’,” Johnny sneered.

“You should be. That boy’s the best shot I ever saw.”

The sneer faded from Johnny’s face as he gave Tim another look. “Better’n you?”

“Yep. I might be a hair faster, but he’s the better shot, though it pains me to say it.”

Johnny turned to the woman. “Get back in the house, Brandy.”

“But don’t you want me to be nice to the cute cops?”

“That won’t be necessary, ma’am,” Raylan said. He turned to Johnny. “Forty-eight hours.”

Johnny went back inside, and Raylan and Tim drove away.

“I feel good about that,” Raylan said.

“I think it went well,” Tim agreed.

“I feel like celebrating.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Somethin’ really low rent. A bottle of Wild Turkey, a bucket of chicken, and a no-tell motel.”

“I got a boner just hearin’ about it.”

Raylan put his foot down on the gas.

Time break

Raylan woke from a pleasant doze with a smile on his face. He was very relaxed, and his arm was around a warm body. He was shirtless but still wore his jeans for some reason.

“What do you weigh? About one-eighty?”

Raylan woke all the way up at the sound of Tim’s voice. He could make out Tim’s boyish features in the soft light. So, it was morning, and the curtains were a joke. “One seventy, give or take a pound,” he said. 

“Bullshit. You’re heavier than one seventy. I’d bet U.S. dollars on it.”

“What difference does it make?”

“I’ll tell you what difference it makes—about twenty pounds. I weigh a buck fifty.”

“So?

“So, I’m going to be on top next time.”

“I guess we’ll see.”

Tim gave Raylan his crooked little smile. “Oh, I believe I can persuade you.”

Raylan’s breath caught when Tim slid a hand under his waistband. As usual, Tim’s touch roused him instantly. “Hang on.” He started to unzip his jeans.

Tim pushed Raylan’s hand away. “Fuck off, control freak,” he said. He unzipped the jeans and reached into the fly of Raylan’s boxers. 

Raylan gasped and shivered as though he’d touched a live wire. 

“I like that look on your face,” Tim drawled.

Raylan looked at Tim through his eyelashes. “You make me crazy,” was the last thing he remembered saying, before Tim pulled his dick through his fly and bent his head to lick the tip. A bolt of pure pleasure blasted up Raylan’s spine to fire his neurons and light up every cell.

Tim took the head of Raylan’s cock in his mouth and ran his tongue around it a few times before moving down the shaft. He drew back to lick the tip until Raylan was groaning in frustration. Tim bobbed his head, engulfing the hard rod to the root before pulling off to repeat the action. He established a rhythm attuned to the music of Raylan’s gasps and groans and proceeded to drive him wild.

Raylan was undone. Tim had driven him higher and higher until he felt like he was going to shatter if he didn’t come soon. It was far from his first blow job, but when he looked down and saw Tim’s lips wrapped around his hard-on, it was a completely new experience. The sight thrilled him like nothing had before. He didn’t have time to warn Tim before he came in several strong spurts.

Tim drew air through his nose and swallowed. Then he swallowed again.

A bone-deep shudder racked Raylan’s body. “St-stop,” he stammered.

Tim let Raylan’s cock slide gently from his mouth. “What’s wrong?”

“It feels—” Raylan’s voice choked off.

“Fuck me, what did I do wrong? Are you okay?”

Raylan opened his eyes. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Tim blew out a big breath. “Christ, I thought I bit you or something.”

“No.” Raylan took another breath. “Nothing like that. I wanted you to stop because it felt too good.”

Tim propped himself on one elbow. “Too good?” he said dubiously.

“I don’t know where you learned to suck a dick, but… damn!”

“Are you fuckin’ with me?”

“I’m crappin’ you negative,” Raylan said. He lay back. “Give me a minute, and we’ll recommence.”

Tim took a drink from the bottle of water he’d left on the nightstand. He offered it to Raylan.

“I don’t want your cooties,” Raylan joked.

“Then you’re SOL after what we just did.”

“Man, I feel so good.” Raylan stretched.

Tim observed appreciatively. “You are one fine-lookin’ man,” he said.

“You ain’t so hard on the eyes.”

“Yeah, right.” Tim picked up his phone and looked at it. “Shit, it’s later than I thought.”

“How late is it?”

“Art’s gonna have kittens.”

“Shit!” Raylan bounced out of the motel room bed and pulled up his jeans.

Tim got dressed and waited while Raylan hunted down various items of apparel he’d flung about the room several hours ago.

“How do I look?” Raylan asked when he was ready.

“Like a walking invitation to sin.”

“That good, huh?” Raylan put his hat on and went to the door.

“Wait a second,” Tim said before Raylan could turn the knob. He came closer and adjusted Raylan’s string tie. “Who dresses you?”

“Thanks.” Impulsively, because that’s who he was, Raylan kissed the top of Tim’s head. He breathed in the fresh smell of some herbal shampoo and under that an elusive scent that reminded him of his mother’s gingerbread cookies. He closed his eyes and inhaled again.

“Mission Control to Raylan”

Raylan focused. “Let’s go,” he said.

“If we must.”

“You think I’m thrilled about a meeting with the Assistant State’s Attorney? We’ll leave as soon as it’s polite.”

“Good. You owe me a blow job.”

Raylan laughed and threw an arm around Tim’s neck as they left the room. Tim ducked out from under Raylan’s arm and took a step away from him.

“Never in public,” he said.

“It was just a—”

“And especially never in a motel parking lot. I don’t care how far away it is.”

“Okay. Calm down. I won’t do it again.”

“Good.”

Raylan watched Tim get in the car. Once again, he was annoyed by the fact that he had to modify his behavior. This was America, dammit. Raylan reminded himself that while he might be in America, Harlan County was another country. It didn’t make him feel any better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A meeting with the AUSA and an assignment.

Scene 12

Art spotted Raylan and Tim as they walked into the office. He waved them over to the table where Deputy Marshal Rachel Brooks and AUSA David Vasquez were sitting.

“Glad you could make it,” Art said.

“Sorry we’re late,” Raylan said as he and Tim sat down. He was pretty sure no one believed him.

Rachel raised a perfect eyebrow as Tim dropped into the seat next to Raylan. “You two are joined at the hip these days.” She nodded. “It’s good to see you gelling as a team.”

Raylan blinked at this rare praise from Miss Type A. “Thank you.”

“I have to be in court in forty minutes,” Vasquez said pointedly.

Rachel cleared her throat. “I’m heading a task force to clear up code violations in Harlan County. I just need you to sign off on it.” She ignored Raylan’s look of surprise.

Vasquez gave her a foxy smile. “And any criminal activity you happen to witness during inspections will be happily prosecuted.” He sobered. “But is this really marshal business?”

“Broadly speaking,” Art said. “We hope to pull in a couple of parole violators in the process.”

Vasquez looked over at Raylan and Tim. “I assume this is your task force?”

Rachel smiled. “No, sir, these are my shock troops.”

“Go forth into battle with my blessings.” Vasquez picked up his briefcase and then went to the door. He waved when Art called out his thanks, but he didn’t slow down.

“That’s a man on a mission,” Tim remarked.

“It’s a real pleasure having a state’s attorney who actually wants to prosecute criminals,” Art said.

“I’m not complainin’,” Raylan said. “But this is my case.”

“Still is,” Art said. “In a manner of speaking.”

“Did you have to go and make it all official without asking me? I’ve still got groundwork to lay. Let me get all the strays in the pen before you shut the gate.”

“I do love the way you talk,” Art said. “You and young Tim are at Rachel’s beck and call for now. I’m going to meet Leslie for lunch at some _café_.”

“What’s on the agenda?” Raylan asked after Art was gone.

Rachel was looking at Raylan curiously.

“What is it?” Raylan said.

“It’s just funny. I could swear that’s the shirt Tim had on yesterday.”

Raylan looked down at his tastefully muted plaid shirt. Shit. It wasn’t _his_ tastefully muted plaid shirt. No wonder he’d had trouble with the buttons. He hadn’t gained more weight; he was wearing Tim’s shirt.

“We both shop at Old Navy,” Tim said and collected an incredulous glance from Raylan.

“Really. And here I thought you shopped at the Army Surplus.”

Tim shrugged.

“So, where do you want us?” Raylan asked. “If we’re done with the fashion discussion.”

“Raylan, I want you to keep doing what you do,” Rachel said. “Go in there and be a dick. Stir the shit up good. Meanwhile, I’ll be coordinating a crew of county inspectors on their rounds. You—” She looked at Tim. “You just keep him alive.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Tim saluted her.

“How are you likin’ all this power?” Raylan asked.

Rachel grinned. “Do I look drunk?” She chuckled. “It is kind of fun ordering you macho white boys around though.”

“It suits you,” Raylan said as he put on his hat. “Tim?”

“Aw, come on. I sucked your dick not an hour ago.”

Rachel raised both eyebrows.

“Private joke,” Raylan said.

“Get Art to explain,” Tim added.

“Boys.” Rachel sighed and then went to her desk. “Go on. Get out of here,” she said. She smiled at the view as the two men walked to the elevator. So not her type, but they were both fine as elderberry wine, as her Grammaw used to say.

 

Time break

 

“So, road trip?” Tim said as he and Raylan got out of the elevator.

“Yeah. Meet me at my place in an hour. Bring your rifle.”

“How about you pick me up? I don’t want to leave my jeep at your place.”

“Fine, I’ll indulge your paranoia.” Raylan started away but stopped. “Where do you live again?”

Tim took out his phone. “I just texted you the address.”

“Outstanding.” Raylan had picked up the expression from Tim, and now he couldn’t stop saying it. “See you in about an hour.”

Tim nodded and then walked away. Raylan felt an irrational urge to call him back but there was no good reason to. He just wanted to see his face again. _What the hell was happening to him?_

Raylan vividly remembered being called “mama’s boy” and “sissy” when he was a kid… and that was just his dad. It stopped when he started playing ball and proved to be a natural, but he’d never forgotten how it made him feel. Now he wondered if they hadn’t been right about him after all. It was certain that his relationships with women never worked out. But he did like women. A lot.

Raylan shook his head. He’d been thinking about Tim almost non-stop and he was still nowhere near to understanding what had happened, and was still happening, between them. Raylan had felt this strongly about a man once before in his life, but he hadn’t been moved to jump Boyd Crowder’s bones.

“You’re losin’ it, Givens,” he said under his breath, not for the first or the last time.

 

Time break

 

Raylan put some clean shirts and underwear in a sport bag with his dopp kit and put it in the trunk of the car. He plugged Tim’s address into the GPS and got on the road. An hour and seven minutes after leaving Tim, he was pulling to the curb into front of a big, old home that had been divided into apartments. He smelled cooking as he walked into the front hall. His stomach growled.

Tim opened the door of his second-floor flat almost as soon as Raylan knocked. “Come on in,” he said and fled to another room.

Raylan followed Tim to the kitchen. “Damn, it smells good in here,” he said.

“I thought we could eat before we got on the road.”

“Good idea.  
”  
“Beer in the fridge, also tea and water. Let me put this on some plates, and we can sit down.”

Raylan took a bottle of water from the fridge. When he turned around, Tim handed him a plate filled with salad, garlic bread, and a square of lasagna the size of the Goodyear blimp hangar.

“Thanks,” he said, a little flabbergasted. “You make this?”

“Cut me some slack, will you?”

“I’m not raggin’ on you, just askin’.”

“Yeah, I made it a couple of nights ago. I just heated it up while I waited for you. The salad came out of a bag.”

Raylan forked a bite into his mouth. After he recovered from the burn, he realized how good the lasagna was. “This is really good.”

“I just followed the recipe.”

“Whatever. It’s damn good.” Raylan set to and polished his plate. As he pushed it away, he looked around at the cozy space. “This is nice.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I was kind of expecting an indoor shooting range or such.” Raylan looked around again. “You got more books than anything else.”

“I tend to read series.”

“Uh-huh. Well, if you ever want to go shooting, let me know.”

“I will.” Tim took his plate to the kitchen, washed it, and put it in the rack.

After a moment, Raylan did the same. “We ready?”

“It would appear so.” Tim picked up an overnight bag and the long rifle case.

Raylan opened the trunk so Tim could put his bags in and then closed it. They got in the car, buckled up, and drove away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raylan and Tim go back to Harlan.

Scene 13

Halfway to their destination, Raylan took out his phone and handed it to Tim. “Find Boyd in recent calls.”

“You want to call him?”

“Yep.”

“Why warn him we’re comin’?”

“Just following orders and stirring the shit.”

 

Tim handed the phone back without comment.  
“Hey,” Raylan said, when Boyd answered. “Just lettin’ you know I’m headed your way, and I’m on the clock.” He chuckled. “I thought you might say that.” He hung up without saying goodbye.

“What did that clown have to say?”

“It’s not a good time for him. He won’t be receiving visitors.”

“Where did he learn to talk like that?”

“My theory is he reads too much.” Raylan glanced at Tim. “Any day now, I expect you’ll start talkin’ like a wizard or a robot.”

“Would that turn you on?”

“Shit, Tim. You turn me on just by bein’ here.”

Tim looked out the window. “You are so full of it. And keep your eyes on the road.”

“Yes, sir, Captain Mood Swing.”

Raylan turned on the radio and turned it back off. He twisted the horseshoe ring on his right ring finger. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

“What?” Tim said.

“I don’t know. I was just thinking. We’re sitting here in this car together, just regular guys. No way anyone looking at us could know.”

“Know what?”

“That we have sex in cheap motels.”

“That last one was kind of nice.”

“You know what I mean. Doesn’t it bother you?”

“I’m not sure what you’re saying.”

“Doesn’t it bother you that we have to sneak around to see each other?”

“No.”

“Well it bothers me.”

“Clearly.”

Raylan heard nothing but resistance in Tim’s voice. “It ain’t right,” he said firmly.

“I’m not arguing, but then again, I don’t _want_ to be seen with you.”

“Jesus, Tim!” Raylan cast a reproachful look at his partner. “What am I to you? Life support for a dick?”

“Look, if anyone thought for a second we were fucking, our careers would be over. We’d have to leave the state, maybe the country.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“This conversation better not be going where I think it’s going.”

“I’m just saying I wouldn’t mind if things were different, that’s—”

“Raylan, stop talking. Or I swear I’ll get out of this car.”

“We’re doing sixty.”

Tim met Raylan’s eyes.

Raylan hit the brakes, tires smoking, and thanked God there was no one behind him. “You can’t keep doing this shit to me,” he said when the car came to a stop. “My heart can’t take it.”

“And you have to understand that absolutely no one can know about this shit.”

Raylan recoiled from the force of Tim’s voice. “I don’t think of it as _this shit_.”

“I know. That’s the problem.”

“Can we get back on the road now?"

“I don’t know, Raylan. Can we?”

Raylan took a second to get hold of himself. “You’re just about the most maddening person I’ve ever met.”

“Makes you think, don’t it?”

“About what?”

“About why you like me so much.”

Raylan stared at Tim’s profile for a few moments and then put the car back in gear. They rode in silence for a few more miles.

As they passed the county line, Raylan thought of something else he wanted to say. He turned to look at Tim, gauging his mood, not liking what he saw. He debated the wisdom of speaking, but he wasn’t really a wise man. “Tim,” he began.

“Jesus Christ, look out, Raylan!” Tim yelled.

Raylan automatically swerved even as he turned his gaze to the windshield. The steering wheel was torn from his hands as the big car clipped something bigger. The impact was glancing but hard enough to activate the airbags. The Lincoln spun out of control and that’s the last thing Raylan remembered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued.


	14. Chapter 14

Scene 14

Raylan woke on a cold, hard floor with his hands tied behind him. He didn’t recognize the featureless, unfurnished room. Then he remembered the car crash.

“Hey!” he yelled. “Anybody here?”

“Well now,” Boyd said as he came into the room. “As I live and breathe. Raylan Givens. I did not believe it when Billy Call said you was here.”

“This is stupid, Boyd,” Raylan said. “And we both know you ain’t stupid.”

“Neither are you… usually.”

“Where’s Tim?”

“Tim?”

“My partner.

“Would he be that intense young marshal who accompanied you to my abode?”

“Yes. Where is he?”

“Why would I know?” Boyd put his hand to his throat in a pearl-clutching gesture. “Surely, you don’t imagine I had anything to do with this fiasco. No, I’m merely here as a consultant, as a favor to Billy Call. Perhaps you didn’t know he’s become an independent entrepreneur?”

“I’m really not in the mood for games.”

“Well, now, neither is Billy. Because of his impulsiveness, he finds himself in a tricky situation, and he thought I might speak to you on his behalf, us havin’ the history we do and all.”

“I don’t care about that. Where is Tim?”

“Perhaps you should have considered what might happen when you started fucking with another man’s livelihood.”

“Perhaps.” Raylan gritted his teeth. “Where is he?”

“You disappoint me, Raylan. Is your sidekick all you can think about?”

“No.”

“Good. Because I don’t want to talk about that prick. He gives me the willies.”

“I have no idea what you mean by that.”

“Well, I mean when he looks at me, I can feel him wanting to put a round right here.” Boyd tapped the bridge of his nose.

“He’d probably be justified. What do you want to talk about, Boyd?”

“No time for polite amenities?” Boyd shook his head. “I remember when you couldn’t tell the two of us apart, and now look at us.”

“I’m content with the way things turned out.”

Boyd shook his head. “You’re content? You got kicked out of Miami to this backwater. You got no wife. No kids. No house. Is your partner really all you got?”

“He’s enough.”

“I see.” Boyd tilted his head. “The inference being that I am not.”

Raylan frowned. “Not what?”

“Enough.”

“Oh.” Raylan shook his head. “Why do you have to make everything about you?”

“Well….” Boyd spread his arms. “I’m me.”

“Where’s Tim?”

“I tell you what. Billy Call knows where that boy is. You want me to ask him?”

“Yes,” Raylan hissed.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you quite this agitated.” Boyd grinned.

“Boyd,” Raylan called before Boyd left the room. “What is it you want?”

“What every man wants: to be left in peace.” Boyd shut the door.

In less than a minute, the door opened again. “Hey, Raylan.” A heavy-set man in a leather vest and grease-stained jeans came into the room. “Boyd says you want to talk to me.”

“I want to know where Deputy U.S. Marshal Tim Gutterson is at.”

“Yeah, Boyd says you’re real keen to know that. There are things I’d like to know too.”

“You don’t want to go down this road, Billy Call.”

“I live on this road, Givens. As for that skinny drink of water you’re worried about, he’s not far away.”

“You know what will happen to you if anything happens to him?”

“I’ll take my chances. This ain’t my first rodeo.”

“I didn’t think it was. Where’s Tim?”

“He’s all nice and cozy. When I tied him up, I made sure the knots weren’t too tight.” Billy smirked at Raylan. “He’s real sweet, if you know what I’m sayin’.”

“That’s some nasty trash talk, even for a lowlife like you.”

“Aw, you know how it is. A man gets a taste for certain things when he does hard time.”

“You want to stop talking now, Billy, or I’m going to hurt you.”

“That’d be a good trick with your hands tied behind you.” Billy chuckled. “Want to hear what we’re gonna do to him?”

Raylan squatted and jumped over his bound wrists. With his hands now in front of him, he swung as he rose from the floor and hammered the side of Billy’s head. Billy went down and Raylan dropped on him. Clasping his hands together, Raylan brought them down on Billy’s face.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Boyd yelled as he burst into the room. The two thugs at his back pulled Raylan off Billy. “You got it all wrong, Raylan.”

Billy wiped blood from his mouth as he looked up at Raylan. “Jesus, man! You broke my face.”

“Count yourself lucky your friends came in.”

“Hold on now,” Boyd said. “Billy just said them things to get you spun up, Raylan. I didn’t believe it would work, but he was right. You flipped the fuck out.”

“Was there a point in all this fuckery?” Raylan sucked blood from his abraded knuckles.

“Billy thought he could get one of you to give away where the next raid would be. See the idea was—”

Raylan clenched his jaw. “Boyd.”

“Yeah, Raylan?”

“I want to see Tim Gutterson. Now.”

“All right. Hold your horses.”

“And if you think I’m not going to arrest all of you for kidnapping, you’re as crazy as I think you are. You too, Boyd. You’re the only one who knew I was coming.”

“Maybe you should save the threats until your hands aren’t tied.”

“Boyd—” Raylan stopped talking as the door opened and Tim was escorted into the room. After a visual check for injuries, Raylan gave Tim a curt nod. “You okay?”

“None the worse for wear,” Tim drawled. “How ‘bout you?”

“I’ve been better.” Raylan eyed Billy warily as the bloodied man approached with a knife, but all Billy did was cut his bonds.

“This here is all a misunderstanding,” Boyd said. “Billy Call told me how he come up on your car in the middle of the road with you two inside knocked out.”

“Someone put a barricade in the road.”

“I didn’t see no barricade,” Billy said. “You didn’t need no ambulance, so me and the boys brought you here and took care of you. Your car’s outside. Just got a banged-up fender is all.” He coughed. “Then I got nervous that you’d think we had bad intentions, so I called Boyd.”

“If they tried to get information from you, surely that’s understandable,” Boyd added.

“I didn’t tell them anything,” Tim said.

“I know that,” Raylan answered. “If these two think they’re gettin’ a pass, they better think again. I will bury you, Boyd Crowder.”

“Easy, man,” Tim said.

Raylan fixed Tim with a sharp gaze and help up his hand. Tim didn’t look happy, but he hung back. Raylan addressed Boyd again. “We’re goin’ now. The next time you see me, I will have a round in the chamber. Understand?”

Boyd just nodded.

Raylan walked past Boyd, Tim a shadow at his back. He held it together until he was driving away.

Tim jumped when Raylan slammed his hands against the steering wheel. “You okay?” He recoiled slightly from the savage look on Raylan’s face. “What is it?”

“Nothin’,” Raylan said in a choked voice. He couldn’t bring himself to repeat the ugly things Billy Call had said. Just the thought of that beer-bellied biker wannabe touching Tim made Raylan want to smash something.

“All right,” Tim said carefully. “But I’d appreciate if you’d stop treating me like a snitch.”

“I know you didn’t tell those assholes anything.”

“Then I’m at a loss to explain your behavior.” Tim yawned. “Man, I was bored out of my mind sittin’ around that place.”

“Good.”

Tim gave Raylan an odd look, but he didn’t speak again until Raylan pulled onto the interstate. “Where are we going?”

“To a field office to report a crime.”

“Aw, come on, Raylan. Do we have to?”

“What do you think we should do?”

Tim looked up from his phone. “There’s a Fairfield Inn at the next exit. They have free breakfast. Exit’s coming up now.”

Raylan glanced over at Tim and then put on his turn signal.

The room was nice, and the bed was large. The sex was quick and semi-brutal. Raylan couldn’t get enough of Tim. His touch was greedy, and more than once, he found himself holding on too tightly. Tim didn’t complain; he leaned into it.

Later, in the shower, Raylan saw the marks of his need as small bruises on Tim’s skin. He kissed each one. And then made some more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go south.

Scene 15

Raylan woke and stretched against the fluffy hotel pillows. He was sore in a few places, but that wasn’t surprising considering how hard they’d gone at it last night. He glanced over at the other side of the big bed and saw that Tim’s eyes were open.

“They’re blue,” Raylan said.

“Your balls?” Tim guessed.

“No, your eyes.”

“Yeah I know. Always have been.”

“It’s just that they’re so dark. I always thought they were black.”

“Black?”

“I suck at this, huh?”

Tim sighed. “Look, I know you fancy yourself the romantic type and all, but I don’t need that. You don’t even have to be nice to me. I just like having sex with you.”

Raylan squinted at Tim. “What are you saying?”

“Same thing I’ve been sayin’ all along. You don’t have to pretend this is anything it’s not.”

“Well, hell, Tim, I thought you were doing this stuff with me because you liked me.”

“I do like doing this stuff with you. I’m just saying you don’t have to bring me flowers.”

“What if I wanted to?”

Tim turned onto his side facing away from Raylan.

“Tim?”

It was a few seconds before Tim answered. “I don’t think I can do this, Raylan.”

Instant ice formed around Raylan’s heart. “Okay,” he said quickly. “Forget I spoke. We’ll just have sex, if that’s how you want it.”

“I don’t think you can do that.”

It was going south so fast; Raylan panicked. Instead of insisting he could keep it casual, he said, “Don’t take this away from me, please.”

“Dammit, Raylan, don’t beg.”

Raylan tried again. “This is the best peace I’ve ever known. I thought you felt the same way.”

“I do.” Tim turned to face Raylan. “But I’m a realist.”

“What’s that mean?”

“You know as well as I do that this can’t last, and the longer it goes on the harder the end will be.”

“No, I don’t know that. I know it won’t be easy, but we’re not quitters.”

“It’s better if we stop now before we burn each other to the ground.”

“You can’t tell me you don’t care about me.”

Tim swung his legs over the side of the bed. “No. I can’t tell you that,” he agreed as he stood up.

Raylan rose on his elbows and watched Tim pace naked to the curtains and peer through the crack. “Then what are we arguing about?”

“I’m not arguing.” Tim turned his head to look at Raylan, his lean frame outlined in light.

“It sounds like you’re trying to break up with me.” Raylan sat all the way up. He scrubbed a palm over his beard stubble. “People have broken up with me before, so I know what it sounds like, and it sounds like this.”

“I knew this was a bad idea,” Tim murmured to the window. “So bad.”

“Are you breaking up with me?”

“Are we going steady?”

Raylan sprang to his feet. There was no hint of humor in his expression. “Yes, Tim, we are. I’ve been more faithful to you than anyone in my life. I need you. I want to feel the way you make me feel forever."

Tim’s face was stony when he replied. “That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. I really wish you hadn’t said it.” He bent to pick up his jeans from the floor.

“Tim, don’t.” Raylan walked over as Tim put the jeans on. He took hold of Tim’s upper arm. “Don’t go. This is ridiculous.”

“I can’t stay.”

“Why not?”

“Let go, so I can finish getting dressed.”

Raylan took his hand off Tim. “I don’t understand why this is happening.”

“It’s not your fault, okay?” Tim pushed his feet into his boots and stuffed his socks in his jacket pockets. “This is all on me.” He crossed the room.

“Yeah, that takes the sting out of it.” Raylan shook his head. “Goddammit, Tim! Stop!” he shouted.

Tim froze with his hand on the doorknob.

“Please,” Raylan said.

Tim walked out and the door closed behind him. Raylan stared at the door for a long time, and then he looked around the room as if seeking help. His gaze fell on his holstered Glock 17. Without thinking about it, he pulled on his jeans and left the room with the gun in his hand. He was halfway to the fire stairs when a wave of nausea hit him. He leaned against the wall and stared at the Glock.

“What the hell are you planning to do?” he asked himself. “Make him love you at gunpoint?”

The door opposite opened and a member of the domestic staff looked out. “You need some help, sir?” she asked.

“I don’t think there is help for me, ma’am, but thanks all the same.” Raylan straightened up and went back to the room. As he switched on the light, his phone rang. “What’s up, Art?” he asked, thankful for the distraction.

A minute later he put the phone away, finished dressing, and checked out. Half an hour later, he met his colleagues at the address Art had given him. As instructed, he parked and walked three blocks to another address. Casually, he approached a windowless van and knocked twice. Art slid the door open and let him in. Rachel sat in front of a laptop at a built-in desk. Lounging next to her was Tim wearing his ball cap backward. Raylan could understand how Tim got there ahead of him, but when had he had time to change clothes? Nothing in Tim’s posture said he’d welcome questions from Raylan.

Raylan turned to Art. “So, we have a hostage situation?”

“Yeah, and the dirtbag is bein’ real cute,” Art said. “So far he’s asked for a monster truck, the complete works of Lynyrd Skynyrd, and a deep-dish Hawaiian pizza.”

“Please let me shoot him,” Tim said.

Rachel smiled up at Tim. “I’m good with it.”

“No,” Art said. “You may not shoot the dirtbag until the dirtbag does something provocative.”

“I could provoke him,” Raylan said. “If that would help.”

“Good lord, Raylan,” Art said. “Don’t encourage them.”

Rachel spun around in her chair to face Raylan. “Inside the house on the northwest corner is a recently paroled gentleman named Loren Deaks. His ex-wife moved out a couple of months ago when she heard he was coming home. He did not know that when he broke in.”

“So, who’s in there?”

“Two college students, Julie Haynes and Blanche Barker, both nineteen. So far, he’s left them alone. Their hands are bound with duct tape and they have duct tape over their mouths.”

“You can see inside?”

Rachel spun the chair back around and beckoned to Raylan. “The girls have a webcam. They aren’t broadcasting now, but I was able to tap into it.”

Raylan looked at the screen. On a double bed, two girls sat close together. Both were wearing over-sized T-shirts and had bare legs. Their wrists were bound with duct tape and there were strips of duct tape over their mouths. Both stared directly into the camera, eyes desperate. A man in a camo jacket was moving around restlessly in the background. Raylan recognized the silhouette of a Desert Eagle in his hand.

“Now, where did you acquire such a fine handgun, my man?” Raylan murmured.

“The Eagle?” Tim said.

Raylan nodded. He could barely stand to be this close to Tim, but he was a professional. He would get the job done even if it broke his heart. “He looks agitated.”

“He’s been winding himself up about something,” Art said. “We can’t quite make out what he’s saying, but I figure it’s the ex-wife he’s ranting about.”

“Where are the cops?”

“That’s an interesting story that I’ll tell you sometime. Meanwhile, suffice it that Mr. Deaks was put away on a federal charge, so his ass is ours.”

“What did he do?”

“Trafficking in explosives,” Rachel supplied. “We’re pretty sure he doesn’t have any on him.”

Raylan raised an eyebrow. “Pretty sure?”

“We haven’t seen any evidence that he has a bomb,” Art said.

“Then again,” Tim said. “These days it only takes a few ounces of Semtex to get the job done. Don’t believe me, you can ask your pal Crowder.”

Raylan met Tim’s dispassionate gaze and locked eyes with him.

Rachel felt the tension between Raylan and Tim, and she didn’t like it one little bit. Normally, they worked together like two precisely milled gears. The notion of them being at odds shook her confidence in the outcome of this situation she was in charge of. As the leader, it was up to her to make things right.

“Raylan. Tim. I don’t know what’s up your asses, but you better pull it out fast because I need you one hundred percent present, is that clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” they said in unison.

“Okay,” Rachel said. “Here’s the plan.”

Raylan looked over at Tim, but Tim was focused on Rachel. All Raylan wanted now was to get this over with so he and Tim could work things out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raylan and Tim take out a bad guy.

Scene 16

Raylan walked up to the front door like he came here every day. He knocked and then looked up and down the street while he waited. After a few seconds, he rang the bell. Aware that Rachel was watching from the van, he angled himself sideways to the door. Off to his left, Art was stationed behind a tree trunk across the street, revolver in hand. Tim was somewhere out of sight, no doubt being a platform for his sniper rifle.

Raylan started when a voice came through a speaker next to the door.

“What do you want?”

“Hello?” Raylan replied.

“What do you want?”

“I’d like to talk to you about the most important thing in your life.”

“Goddam Jehovah’s Witness! Get the hell out of here.”

“Sir,” Raylan raised his voice. “I hear a lot of anger. Won’t you let me take that anger away?”

“I said, get the fuck—”

Raylan heard the hollow pop of a rifle report and then a thud. Bracing himself, he kicked the door. It opened halfway and then met an obstacle.

“Fuck!” Deaks screamed as the door slammed into him.

Raylan regarded the wounded man. Deaks was writhing on the floor clutching his bloody right hand. The Desert Eagle lay next to him. Raylan kicked it away ad looked up as Tim appeared at the end of the foyer, rifle snug against his shoulder.

“I don’t think he’ll give us any more trouble,” Raylan said, but Tim didn’t lower the rifle.

“Show me your hands,” he said to Deaks.

“Fuck you,” Deaks spat. He kept a tight grip on his right wrist with his left hand. “Call an ambulance.”

“Sure. Right away.” Raylan rolled his eyes at Tim, but Tim was watching Deaks. Raylan saw Tim’s eyes widen slightly. He dropped to the floor, certain Tim was about to fire.

“Move,” Tim barked.

Raylan tried, but Deaks grabbed his coat tail and pulled him off-balance. The knife Deaks had concealed in his sleeve cut a gash in Raylan’s sport jacket before a bullet slammed into Deaks’s shoulder and put him back on the floor.

“You going to stay down, or do I have to shoot you through the kneecaps?” Tim asked calmly.

Raylan rose to his feet, fingers running along the slash in his jacket, blinking at the near miss. “Thanks,” he said to Tim.

“I came here to work,” Tim said tersely, as Art came blasting through the front door.

“Pretty work, boys,” Art said. He radioed Rachel, who had already called for an ambulance.

Tim nodded, and then walked away, deeper into the house. Raylan followed. At the door to the girls’ bedroom, Raylan and Tim naturally moved to opposite sides. Raylan raised his eyebrows at Tim. Tim gave a fractional nod. Raylan turned the doorknob and peered through the crack before he let the door swing open. He entered quickly in a crouch. Tim stood in the doorway and covered the room with the rifle.

“Looks clear,” Raylan said. He went over the bed and removed the duct tape from the girls’ mouths.

Fresh tears dampened Julie and Blanche’s cheeks while they thanked the marshals for rescuing them. Soon a victims’ advocate arrived at Rachel’s behest to guide the young women through a doctor’s exam and the filing of charges. They were escorted out by a route that ensured they wouldn’t have to see Deaks again. Deaks himself was handed over to local authorities.

“A good day’s work.” Art patted Raylan and Tim’s shoulders. “We got the bad man and the damsels are more or less unscathed.”

Tim moved from under Art’s hand. “Yeah, what a brilliant operation.”

“Do I hear criticism in your voice, young Tim?” Art asked.

“Let’s hear it,” Rachel challenged. “Does it bother you to take orders from a woman?”

Tim made a scoffing noise. “Not if she’s as good at her job as you are.”

“Then what?” she replied. “And thank you.”

“How about a deputy marshal who assumes a man is unarmed and blocks his partner’s shot in the process of nearly gettin’ himself gutted like a perch?”

Raylan narrowed his eyes at Tim. “It all worked out fine.”

“It did,” Tim agreed. “Because I was there to put holes in the bad man for you.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but ain’t that your job?”

“Yeah, but I don’t need a cowboy making it harder.”

“Hey!” Art raised his voice. “Settle down. You sound like the Bickersons.”

“What are bickersons?” Rachel asked.

“Child.” Art sighed. “They were this married couple on the radio who argued all the time.”

Rachel exchanged a look with Tim, the one closest to her age. Tim shrugged. Rachel pursed her lips in thought for a moment. “I’m calling this case closed. Art, go home and kiss your wife. Raylan, go polish your guns. Tim….” She shook her head. “Go do whatever it is stone-cold freaks like you do in their down time.”

Tim saluted her, and then trotted away with the rifle at port arms. A few seconds later, they heard the jeep engine. Raylan’s heart grew heavier as the sound got fainter.

“I’m going to order a pizza and zone out in front of the TV,” Rachel said. “Bye, boys.”

“I’m off too,” Art said. “Good job today, Rachel.”

Rachel beamed at Art as he got into the van. Raylan watched them wistfully. He was probably going home to kill a bottle of whisky while he paced his rented rooms and missed Tim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued. PS: This is a short chapter, so I'll be posting another one later today.


	17. Chapter 17

Scene 17

Two weeks later….

Raylan gave his phone a sour look when it rang, but he picked it up. He didn’t recognize the number, but he answered anyway, though it was well past midnight. Maybe being a jerk to a wrong number would make him feel better.

“Raylan Givens?”

“Yeah?”

“This is Leroy Bennett over to Buford’s. I think you ought to get over here.”

“If you’ve got trouble, call the cops. I’m off the clock.” He took a drink from the bottle of whisky he was working on.

“That guy you were in here with before is back, and he’s shitfaced.”

Tim. Raylan sat up. “Kind of scrawny? Looks harmless but walks like a badass?”

“Yeah, the young fella with the chip on his shoulder.”

Definitely Tim. “What’s he doing?”

“Does he have that PBST?”

“I’ll be right over,” Raylan said. “Just let him be, okay?”

“You’re damn straight I will. I heard he was one of those black ops in the Army.”

“Glad to see you appreciate the situation.” Raylan hung up.

Four minutes later, he was in his car headed for the county line. He pulled into the pot-holed gravel parking lot and turned off the engine. He spotted Tim’s jeep was parked diagonally across two spaces. Raylan hitched up his belt and walked into the roadhouse.

Leroy looked up from behind the bar when Raylan came in. He nodded toward the right side of the big space where the pool tables were. Raylan saw three other people, all of them on bar stools. There was no noise but the click of pool balls. Raylan raised his eyebrows at Leroy. Leroy pointed and went back to drying mugs.

Raylan walked into the game room. He spotted Tim lining up a shot; he was the only person in the room. The tail of Tim’s shirt hung over his waistband and his posture could best be described as sagging. A heavy wave of red-tinged, light brown hair hung over his forehead. As Raylan watched, Tim hit the cue ball directly into a corner pocket.

“Shit!”

“Language,” Raylan said.

Tim looked over at him. “Well hell.” He gestured broadly. “Grab a stick and we’ll have a game. Since you’re here. Why are you here?”

“How drunk are you on a scale of one to paralytic?”

“I’ve had a few drinks.” Tim leaned a hip against the pool table.

“What’s your middle name?”

“Beauregard,” Tim answered and then winced. “Shit. Not fair.”

“I didn’t make you get so drunk you can’t think.”

Tim ignored the implied criticism. “What a surprise running into you here. I chose this place precisely because I figured you’d never come back here.”

“I don’t think you should be here either.”

“Fortunately, I don’t care what you think.”

“Ouch.” Raylan winced. “If you’re trying to hurt me, good job.”

“I don’t want to hurt you. I just want you to go away.”

“Nope. You challenged me to a game.” Raylan went to look at the motley collection of pool cues. “Rack ‘em up.”

Tim gave Raylan a poisonous look, but he gathered the balls and racked them. “Break ‘em,” he invited.

Raylan obliged. The brightly-colored balls flew apart and caromed off the bumpers except for three that went into pockets.

“Two stripes, one solid,” Tim said. “Hell of a break.”

Raylan didn’t answer. He concentrated on potting all the striped balls.

“Well, shit,” Tim said. “You ran the table on me. I didn’t even get a turn.” He put his cue stick on the table. “I need a drink.”

Raylan stepped in front of him. “Like hell you do.”

“Get the fuck out of my way,” Tim said loudly.

“Hey,” Leroy called out. “You mind takin’ it outside?”

“Snitch!” Tim yelled back.

Leroy found something to do at the other end of the bar.

“Come on.” Raylan put a hand on Tim’s elbow.

Tim flung away from Raylan. “Don’t put your hands on me. I’m going.”

Outside, Tim blinked at the stars. “It’s night?”

“No way I’m letting you drive away from here. Get in my car.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“I’ve tried, God knows, but I’m pretty sure it’s physically impossible.”

Tim made a sound suspiciously like a sob. “Just go away.”

“I’m not leaving you here like this.”

“It’s too hard, Raylan. I’m sorry; I really am, but it’s just too hard.” Tim bowed his head. “I can’t be around you.”

“I’m not putting any moves on you.”

“It ain’t you I’m worried about,” Tim mumbled.

“What? I didn’t catch that.” Raylan leaned closer.

Tim reached behind his back, and suddenly, there was a gun pointed at Raylan.

“So that’s why your shirt was untucked,” Raylan said. “That’s a pretty little SIG Sauer, the P230. I haven’t shot one of those.”

“Christ, why can’t you take a hint? Do I have to shoot you to get rid of you?” Tim put the muzzle against his temple. “Do I have to check myself out?”

Raylan’s heart was pounding so hard, he could feel the pulse in his neck and hear the ocean roar of his blood in his inner ear. He stood very still and spoke very calmly. “Is that loaded?”

“Do you really think I’d carry an empty gun?” Tim put some pressure on the trigger and the metal glinted in the yellow glow of the security light.

“Tim,” Raylan said softly. “This has gone far enough, don’t you think? You don’t really want to die in the parking lot of a scuzzy bar.”

Tim lowered the gun. “No.” He sighed. “Not really.” He tucked the weapon into his waistband.

“Whew.” Raylan puffed out his cheeks. He wanted to grab Tim and hold him close, but he wasn’t going to make that mistake. Instead, he spoke as though things were perfectly normal, or whatever passed for normal these days. “That was intense.”

“Not the word I had in mind. Humiliating is more like it.”

“You got nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Sure, I do.” Tim looked up at the stars again to avoid looking at Raylan. “Even now, despite my resolutions, despite the danger, despite the threat to my sanity, all I want to do is throw you down on the hood of your precious car and lick you all over.”

Raylan swallowed hard as he imagined it. “I’m miserable without you.”

“We work together every day.”

“You know what I mean.”

Tim didn’t answer and the silence stretched out until Raylan had to break it.

“Come on. Let me drive you home.”

“My God, I’m pathetic.”

“No, you’re not.” Though he’d never been what you’d describe as nurturing or even particularly nice, Raylan put a hand on the small of Tim’s back and guided him to the passenger seat. He got behind the wheel and started the car. “You’re the best shot I ever saw,” he said. “You’re brave, loyal, funny, and smart, and I’m just gettin’ started on your good points.”

“Shut up.” Tim rested his head against the side window. “I’m a self-hating queer who drinks too much so he won’t wake up screaming from nightmares about exploding heads.”

Raylan couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t sound naïve or condescending, so he kept his mouth shut and concentrated on driving the winding road.

“Raylan?”

“Yeah?”

“Stop the car.”

“Forget it. I’m taking you home.”

“It’s up to you. You can pull over, or I can ruin your upholstery.”

“Shit.” Raylan slowed down and steered to the shoulder.

As soon as the car stopped, Tim opened the door and leaned out. Raylan winced at the retching noises. He reached into his pocket and handed Tim his handkerchief.  
“You can keep it,” he said.

Tim wiped his mouth. “I wish Leroy hadn’t called you.”

“He seemed concerned.”

“Why can’t people mind their own business?”

“I imagine it’s because they care.”

“Caring is the root of all misery.”

“I don’t remember that one from the Bible.”

Tim didn’t answer. After a few moments, Raylan glanced over and saw his partner had passed out or was playing possum so he wouldn’t have to talk. He took it easy on the corners until he pulled up in front of Tim’s apartment building. He got out, opened the passenger door, and leaned in. He wrapped his arms around Tim and lifted him out. It felt so good to have Tim in his embrace that he stood there for a few seconds, not caring who might be looking out a window.

“We home?” Tim mumbled. He moved restlessly and Raylan let go of him.

“Yep. Come on. I’ll help you upstairs.”

“I’m not that drunk.” Tim took a step and stopped. “No, wait. I am that drunk. I don’t want your help, but I need it.”

Raylan pulled Tim’s arm around his neck and half-carried him up the single flight of stairs to his apartment. After some fumbling, Tim produced his keys, and Raylan unlocked the door.

“Bedroom?” Raylan said.

Tim leaned right and Raylan took the hint. Two doors opened off a short hall. Bathroom and bedroom, Raylan figured.

“You need to take a piss?” Raylan asked.

“I usually leave one,” Tim slurred.

“You’re a funny guy. I ever tell you that?” Raylan opened the door on the left and maneuvered Tim inside.

Tim sat on the bed while Raylan turned on a lamp. “You can go now,” Tim said.

“No, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because, Tim, I can’t ignore the fact that you pulled a loaded gun on me and then put it to your head. I should take you in for an evaluation, but I won’t, because I know you’d never forgive me. In return for my consideration, you’re going to put up with me until we figure this shit out.”

“Raylan, you’re a man in full, but there are some things that can’t be fixed, and you’ve just got to accept that.”

“No, I don’t.” Raylan went to one knee to pull off Tim’s boots. “I need you, and I’m not giving you up without a fight. Even if I have to fight you.”

“I should have shot myself while I had the chance.”

“Shut up. Suicide is not your style.” Raylan unbuttoned Tim’s jeans and pulled them off. He helped Tim out of his shirt and threw the clothes over a chair. He sat on the side of the bed and ran his fingers through Tim’s hair.

“Cut it out,” Tim said half-heartedly.

“Nope.” Raylan sat there and stroked Tim’s hair until Tim fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My internet went down yesterday and I just got it back. Whew!


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hungover Tim.

Scene 18

Tim opened his eyes and immediately shut them again. The light was like glass splinters.

“Hey,” Raylan said softly. “You awake?”

“God, I hope not.”

“I know you probably feel like hammered shit, but you should try to drink this.”

Tim cracked an eye and focused on the bottle of Gatorade in Raylan’s hand. “Yeah, I probably should.” He pushed himself up a little and took the bottle.

Raylan offered Excedrin. Tim swallowed four.

“I’m going to heat you up some soup,” Raylan said.

“No. Stay.”

“What?”

“Just… sit there. Okay?”

“Okay.” Raylan put his hand on Tim’s forehead.

“I’m hungover, Raylan, not feverish.”

Raylan leaned back against the headboard again. Tenderly, he brushed the sweat-damp commas of hair off Tim’s forehead. “Can I get you anything?” he asked.

“You acting like a mother hen is making me very uncomfortable.”

Raylan got to his feet. “Point taken. Let’s talk about what an idiot you are.”

Tim met Raylan’s gaze. “I’m listenin’.”

“You got blind drunk in a shitkicker bar. Anything could have happened to you if Leroy hadn’t called me.”

“You got a low opinion of my ability to take care of myself.”

“No, I don’t. I know you’re a badass. I just want to help take care of you.”

Tim put a hand over his eyes. “Could you do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Stop talking or shoot me.”

“I can’t do either.”

“Then I guess I’ll suffer.” Tim drank more Gatorade.

Raylan looked at his watch. “Think you could sleep some more?”

“Being unconscious is lookin’ real good right now.”

“I imagine so.” Raylan looked at his watch again.

“If you got somewhere to be, you should go,” Tim said.

“I’m a little worried about leaving you alone.”

Tim closed his eyes. “What if I promise I won’t shoot myself till you get back?”

“Thank you, Tim.” Raylan put on his hat. “I’ll be back quick as I can.” He paused. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but I care about you a lot. All I ask is that you let me.” He waited for an answer, but Tim was already asleep or pretending to be.

 

Time break

 

Raylan leaned through the doorway of Art’s office. “Got a minute?”

“Come on in.”

Raylan sat in front of Art’s desk. “I half-expected to see Rachel sitting there.”

“You probably will once I retire.”

“What?” Raylan pretended to be offended. “You don’t think it might be me?”

Art laughed. “No, I sure don’t. You aren’t steady enough. Neither is Gutterson. You’re both reckless.”

“Come on. Tim? Reckless?”

“It might not be obvious, but….” Art stood and went to close the office door. “Between us, I think he’s a powder keg just waiting for a spark.”

“Hmm. While I don’t disagree, I think he’s got it under control,” Raylan lied.

“For now.” Art glanced at the clock. “I think I might knock off early today. Care to join me in a snort?”

“Yes, I would.”

Art poured two fingers of whisky into two glasses and handed one to Raylan.

Raylan took a sip. “The good stuff,” he said.

“Well, the talk we’re about to have is probably going to be hard on you, so think of it as an anesthetic of sorts.”

“What are we about to talk about?”

“Whatever it was you needed a minute for.”

“Oh. Right.” Raylan took a bigger sip. “I ain’t really sure how to say this.”

“How about somethin’ like, ‘Hey, Art, did you know me and Tim Gutterson are fuck buddies?’”

Raylan sprayed his knees with whisky. “Jesus, Art!”

Art shook his head. “Did you really think I didn’t know?”

“I was hoping.” Raylan wiped his mouth. “How’d you figure it out?”

“First, let me say how shocked I was when I realized what was goin’ on between the two of you. I know it ain’t PC to say it, but there ain’t nothin’ queer about you, Raylan Givens.” Art tossed back his shot and poured another. He waved the bottle at Raylan who declined. “As for Tim, he’s different, that’s for sure, but I wouldn’t have thought he was queer either. You have any idea how many Taliban that boy sent to Allah?”

“No idea. A shitload?”

“A baker’s dozen, according to his file. Of course, that’s just the confirmed kills.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, that’s right. He’s killed more people than you. Higher profile people.”

“That ain’t funny, Art.”

“You’d laugh if it someone besides Tim I was talkin’ about.”

Raylan thought about that for a minute. “You’re right.”

“So… you love him?”  
“I don’t know. Jesus.” Raylan looked around the office as if hoping to spot something that would make this easier. “It’s beyond weird talking to you about this. The whole thing is beyond weird. It’s like Twilight Zone weird. I still can’t believe it happened, but I don’t want it to stop.”

Art ignored Raylan’s babbling. “So you do care about him.”

“Yeah.” Raylan sighed. “I really do. A lot.” He looked over at Art. “I won’t let it affect me on the job, though,” he said. “If that’s what you’re gettin’ at.”

“You already have.” Art set down his glass. “I’m not going to bust your balls, Raylan. I figure you got enough on your plate, what with Boyd Crowder’s redneck mini-mafia, your daddy issues, and your unexpected plunge into sexual exploration with young Tim.”

“My only issue with my daddy is that he’s a criminal.”

“Cain’t be easy knowin’ you’ll have to bust your old man someday.”

“I cannot wait to put handcuffs on him.”

Art squinted at Raylan. “Still can’t wrap my head around it.”

“What? Lots of guys can’t stand their dads.”

“No, not that. I just can’t feature you and Tim all sweaty and turned on.” Art reached for the bottle but changed his mind.

“There’s no reason you should be thinkin’ about that.”

“Seriously, how does that even happen? You’ve always been a lady’s man. Half the department envied you and the other half wanted to sleep with you. How in hell does someone like you look at Tim Gutterson and say, I gotta hit that?”

“Seriously?” Raylan raised his eyebrows at Art.

“Yeah. I really want to know because it shakes my faith in an ordered universe. If a guy like you can go the gay way, it makes me wonder. Am I going to one day decide Vasquez is cute?”

“Do you seriously want an answer to that?”

“No, I was havin’ a little fun there, but I would like to know what made you decide to sleep with Tim, yeah. I got an inquirin’ mind.”

“Come on.”

“I’m genuinely curious. Is it the way he looks? His sense of humor? Is he hung?”

Raylan rolled his eyes. “It’s not the way he looks. I mean, I like the way he looks and all, I guess. He ain’t ugly. But that’s not what made me want him. It might be why he wants me, but….” He paused. “I don’t really know for sure. Can you tell me what it was that made you fall for Leslie?”

“I know what first attracted me. I saw her across a crowded room at a weddin’ reception. Some creep was comin’ on to her. He was tryin’ to make her take one of the drinks he was holding. When he didn’t take no for an answer, she grabbed both drinks and threw them in his face.” Art chuckled. “I was about to go over and see if she needed any help, but she didn’t. She graciously danced with me anyway.”

“That’s a beautiful story.” Raylan mimed wiping away a tear.

“So, what attracted you to young Tim?”

“Thinkin’ back, it was the day I came back to Kentucky and Tim put down a couple of knuckleheads before they ruined my day.”

“That was quite an introduction.”

Raylan thought for a few moments before he spoke. “He is who he is, you know? And he lets me be who I am.”

“I actually understood that.” Art smirked. “Has it occurred to you, Raylan, that you’re sleepin’ with yourself?”

“No, but it’s in my head now. Thanks a bunch.” Raylan swirled the remaining whisky in his glass. “And seriously, thanks for taking it so well, Art.”

“What else can I do? Freaking out won’t change anything, and it’s policy to treat everyone equally.” Art cleared his throat. “However, I would appreciate it if we didn’t have another scene like the one yesterday. It upsets Rachel when you fight with Tim.”

“That might be a problem.”

“Why?”

“Tim’s not real happy with me right now.”

“You’re shitting me.” Art frowned at Raylan. “Don’t tell me you’ve screwed it up already. I just got used to the idea a minute ago.”

“Why do you assume I screwed up?”

“Are you joking? Raylan, you’re a human wrecking ball.”

“It’s not me this time.” Raylan looked down into the glass. “He doesn’t want to be with me anymore.”

“I always said that boy was sharp.” Art sobered when he saw the pain in Raylan’s eyes. “Sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

“I hope so. You’ve been married a long time. What did you do when you had trouble?”

“I talked to her sister.”

“Does Tim have a sister?”

“Shouldn’t you know that?”

Raylan sighed. “I’ve never been in a situation like this. If he was a woman, I’d know what to do, but he ain’t.” He jumped when Rachel knocked on the door.

Art gestured and Rachel stuck her head in.

“I’m gone,” she said.

“Hold up. Raylan here has a problem of a romantic nature.”

“I don’t give relationship advice. It always comes back to bite you in the butt.”

“Who do you reckon he should talk to then?”

Rachel didn’t have to think about it. “Talk to Winona.”

“My ex-wife?”

“No, Wynona Judd.” Rachel rolled her eyes. “Look, Winona not only knows you, but she cares about you. She wants you to be happy. She told me so. So, if you’re going to force me to give advice, talk to her.” She closed the door and walked away.

Raylan stood and set his glass on Art’s desk. “Thanks, Art.”

“Good luck. I mean it. And one more thing, I know you know that no one else can find out about the two of you. That might fly in California, but not in rural Kentucky. No matter what the policy is.”

Raylan nodded before he left the office. He couldn’t believe he’d just had that conversation with Art, but he was glad he had a lead. He took out his phone and called his ex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raylan asks Winona for advice.

Scene 19

Winona answered before the first ring ended. “Raylan!” she said brightly. “How are you? I was just thinking about you, if you can believe it.”

“Sounds like kismet. What prompted thoughts of me?”

“I’m about to go to Don Diego’s and have a frozen margarita.”

“I haven’t been there in a while.” _Not since the divorce._

“You should come. I’ll order a platter for you.”

“I’d like that.” Raylan hesitated. “Are you alone? There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

“All on my lonesome.”

“I’ll see you soon.” Raylan hung up and went to his car. It didn’t take him long to get to the restaurant. He remembered the way.

Winona was in one of the colorfully painted booths. Behind her bloomed a field of sunflowers. Her auburn hair flowed silkily down the front of the red blouse that matched her lipstick. When she saw him, she smiled warmly. He remembered how it felt to hold her and couldn’t help contrasting that with how it felt to hold Tim. It was different and yet, it wasn’t. Sure, the topography was different, but he used the same senses to navigate the territory, so….

“Raylan!” Winona stood to give him a quick kiss before sitting down again. “I ordered you the triple combo with charro beans.”

A server appeared and took Raylan’s order for a Modelo. When the waiter left, Winona smiled brightly at her gorgeous ex-husband. There was no doubt that he was the most maddening man on the planet, but he still made her want to mate with a fierceness that always surprised her.

“Before we get to what you want to talk about, Judge Troxler is having a cocktail party Friday night and I wondered if you would like to go with me.”

Of all the things she might have said, Raylan hadn’t expected her to ask him on a date. She was the one who’d done the leaving. “I’m pretty sure I already have plans. Sorry.”

“Oh. Well, no big deal. I just asked on the off chance. You need a social life.”

“I’m just fine.”

“Oh, are you?” Winona sipped her margarita. “I would bet real money that you sit home every night in your boxers with your feet on the coffee table eating delivery pizza and watching re-runs of Walker, Texas Ranger.”

“I hope you aren’t mocking Chuck Norris.”

“Would I do that?” Winona laughed.

Raylan smiled. He’d always liked her laugh.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” she asked as the waiter set a bottle of beer down in front of Raylan.

Raylan took a sip of the beer before he answered. “I hope I’m not being inappropriate, but I need some relationship advice.”

“And you came to me?”

“Well, you’re a smart lady and you know me pretty well. I was hoping you’d talk it over with me and maybe help me see where I’m going wrong.”

Winona sat back and looked at him in wonder. “Why, Raylan Givens, I don’t believe it. Are you actually making noises about working on a relationship?”

“Okay, fine, rag on me. I deserve it.”

“Yes, you do, but I’m proud of you anyway.”

The food arrived and they gave it their attention until their plates were almost empty.

“So, what’s the problem?” Winona asked. “And who is this girl? I haven’t heard a whisper of gossip about it.”

“That’s really not important.” Raylan squirmed. “The problem is… I’m in love, but… she isn’t.”

“How do you know that?”

“She tells me all the time. She just wants a physical relationship.” It was getting easier to use the female pronoun with each repetition, but he resented having to do it.

“Wow. Talk about being hoist on your own petard.”

“Excuse me?” Raylan cocked his head in a mannerism that had always charmed her.

“Kind of like poetic justice.” Winona cleared her throat. “I’m not sure I can help you. If the lady doesn’t feel anything for you beyond lust, well, it’s not something you can force, you know?”

“Yeah.” Raylan ran a finger around the neck of the bottle. “It just really hurts.”

“Of course, it does.” She reached over and patted his hand. “What drew the two of you together? Maybe that’s something you can build on.”

“We both like shootin’.”

“Anything else? What’s she interested in?”

“She reads a lot.”

“Well, that’s no good. I’ve never seen you read anything but a wanted poster.”

“Harsh.”

“Accurate.” Winona sipped the melted remains of her drink. “Tell me something else.”

Raylan spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness.

“I know! Why don’t you bring her to the cocktail party? I could talk to her there.”

“She wouldn’t go. Really, Winona, all she wants to do is meet me at some shady motel and get it on until we pass out.”

“I would think that would be a dream come true for the Raylan Givens I divorced.”

Raylan gave her a rueful smile. “I would have thought so too. It’s funny, only it’s not.”

“What’s she got that makes you so ready to change for her? Is it just the fact that you can’t have her love that makes you want it so bad?”

“I’m not sure you’d understand.”

“You don’t have to insult me.”

“I’m sorry. I’m really bad at explaining things.”

“That’s not news, sweetheart.”

“Just tell me what you think I should do, please.”

“You’re not going to want to hear this, but the best thing you can do is back off. Don’t pressure her, but don’t be absent either. Let her see that you’re prepared to wait, to respect her wishes. Do you think you can do that?”

“I can try.”

“It’s a miracle, but I do believe you’re evolving.”

“You always were an optimist.” Raylan paused. “What if… she doesn’t fall for me?”

“Then there’s nothing you can do but try to forget her.”

“And if I can’t?”

“Then you’ll be a very sad man.”

Raylan picked up the check. “I got this,” he said.

“Thanks. We should do this again.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

Raylan leaned to kiss her cheek. “Because you smell too good.” He smiled. “Wish me luck.”

“Believe it or not, I do. Best of luck, Raylan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A phone call from Boyd sends Raylan and Tim back to Harlan.

Scene 20

Raylan was pulling to the curb in front of Tim’s apartment when his phone rang. “Boyd,” he said. “To what do I owe the displeasure?”

“Come on now. No need to be so hostile.”

“Why are you callin’ me?”

“The thing is, and you’re gonna laugh, I got myself into a little fix, and I need your help to get out of it.”

“No.” Raylan started to disconnect.

“Wait!” Boyd said desperately. “Raylan, swear to God, boy, if you don’t help me, I’m a dead man.”

“And you think I care why?”

“You know why. And you know I wouldn’t reach out to you if I had any other option.”

“Ah, fuck me.” Raylan had known that sooner or later, Boyd would play this card. They had shared experiences that had welded them together at the soul, whether Raylan liked it or not, which he damn sure didn’t. But nothing could change the fact that it had been Boyd down there in the suffocating dark with him when the mine shaft caved in. It had been Boyd who’d kept him sane until they got out.

“Raylan? You still there?”

Raylan dragged himself back from the dark place. “Yeah, I’m here. Where are you?”

“You know that place used to be a biker clubhouse?”

“Off Trace Road?”

“That’s the one.”

“What kind of trouble are you in?”

“I could sure use a man handy with a gun. And Raylan? Ava’s here with me.”

“Fuck me twice.” Raylan looked at the phone as though it had personally offended him. “Okay, Boyd. I’m on my way.”

He got out of the car and went into Tim’s building. He’d go to Boyd’s rescue, but not before he checked on Tim. The fact that Tim’s meltdown had been caused by what they’d been up to together made him sick with guilt. It was almost insupportable, but he didn’t have time to wallow in it. People needed him.

 

Time break

 

When Raylan walked into Tim’s place, he was immediately aware of a good smell. He followed it to the kitchen. Tim turned when Raylan walked in.

“I’m making cornbread.”

“Just cornbread?”

“I like cornbread.”

“So, you’re feelin’ better?”

“I don’t want to shoot myself anymore, if that’s what you mean.”

“Good.” Raylan hovered, torn between wanting to hug Tim, and the knowledge that Tim didn’t want a hug. “I have a thing. Will you be all right?”

Tim shot Raylan a look over his shoulder.

“Stupid question,” Raylan said. “I’ll be back.”

“Wait.”

“What is it?”

Tim turned and leaned back against the counter. Despite his resolutions, he couldn’t help asking. “Can I know where you’re going?”

“I got a call from Boyd.”

“And?”

“I’m going to meet him.”

“Jesus, Raylan, what the hell for?”

Raylan moved a little closer, keeping the counter between them, wary of spooking Tim. “He’s in trouble.”

“No shit.”

“And he says Ava’s with him.”

“I’ll say one thing for him, he knows how to bait the hook.”

“Yeah, I reckon nobody knows my weaknesses like Boyd does.”

Tim narrowed his eyes in thought and was silent long enough to make Raylan edgy.

“I gotta go.” Raylan said sharply.

Tim looked up and met Raylan’s gaze. “Could you use a hand?”

“I could definitely use a shooter, but are you sure you ought to?”

“I’m not sure about a lot of things, but I’m certain I don’t want you meetin’ Boyd Crowder without backup.” Tim opened the oven door a crack and peered in. “Well shit,” he said regretfully, as he pulled out a tin of half-baked corn muffins.

“Come on. We’ll drive through a Hardee’s, and I’ll buy you a biscuit.”

“Yeah?”

“On my mama’s grave.”

“Gimme three minutes.” Tim disappeared into his bedroom.

Raylan spent the time being grateful that Tim wanted to go with him, even if it _was_ on the off chance he’d get to take a shot at Boyd Crowder. Tim had sure enough taken against Boyd on first sight, but Boyd affected people that way sometimes. They were either captivated by him or they couldn’t stand him.

Tim returned wearing navy trousers, a navy long-sleeved T-shirt, and a maroon Thinsulate-filled vest zipped up to his chin. He was wearing his favorite ball cap—no logo—and carrying his rifle case. He moved like he had a purpose.

“Am I allowed to tell you how hot you are right now?”

Tim snorted. “Stop screwing around.”

“Thanks for doing this,” Raylan said as they left the apartment.

“I can’t let you have all the fun.”

Raylan unlocked his car, and Tim put the rifle case on the backseat rather than in the trunk. Before Raylan got in the car, he took his Glock 17 from the holster and did a brass check.

“Open the glove box,” Raylan said, after he and Tim were buckled in.

Tim looked inside and whistled. “What can I get you?”

“Hand me the Baretta, please.”

“Sure thing.” Tim passed over the compact sidearm.

“Why don’t you take one?”

Tim pulled a pistol from a vest pocket and held it up.

Raylan took in the elegant, sinister silhouette of the SIG Sauer P230—the sleek little gun Tim had pulled on him in a roadhouse parking lot. “That’ll work for close-ups,” he said.

“Glad you approve. Why are we still here?”

Raylan hit the gas so hard, the heavy vehicle burned rubber.

“Outstanding,” Tim said. “This shit makes me so hard.”

 

Time break

 

Raylan lasted ten minutes on the road before he had to talk. “Listen, I just want you to know, I’m not going to pressure you.”

“Good to hear.”

“Can we talk about it though?”

“If you think it’ll help pass the time.”

“Will you take me seriously?”

“It won’t change anything.”

“I’m not askin’ you to change. I just want things back the way they were.”

“Aw, Raylan.” Tim sighed. “Even if we went back to being fuck buddies, it wouldn’t be the same as it was before. That’s not possible.”

“So, it would be different. I’m okay with that.”

“It’s always going to come back to you wanting more than I can give you.”

“That’s what I don’t get.”

“Fine. You know what _I_ don’t get?”

“What?” Raylan shot Tim a puzzled look.

“The fuckin’ biscuit you promised me.”

“My bad.” To his pleased surprise, considering his recent run of luck, Raylan saw a McDonald’s ahead, and thanked God for all-day breakfast menus. He pulled into the drive-through and placed an order. In ten minutes, they were back on the road.

Tim took a huge bite of a sausage and egg biscuit. “Okay, you were saying?”

Raylan thought for a minute while he sipped his coffee. “I don’t understand why you’d think you aren’t enough for me.”

“It’s never going to work.”

“Why not?”

“First, and this is a big one, you’re not gay. I have no idea why you want to fool around with me, and I was an idiot to let it happen the first time, but damn… you are _fine_. I figured as soon as the thrill wore off, you’d remember you’re straight.”

“It ain’t wearin’ off.”

Tim sighed. “If that ain’t enough, I’m damaged goods, Raylan.”

“Shut up. You’ve got some issues; who doesn’t?”

“I’m more trouble than I’m worth.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but your problems stem from the time you spent in Afghanistan.”

“Mostly, so?”

“So, I don’t look down on you for something that happened while you were serving your country. It ain’t your fault, and you should be proud, not ashamed.”

“Yeah. I should,” Tim said heavily. “So why do I drink myself into oblivion almost every night?”

“You never drank too much when you were with me.” Raylan paused. “I mean, we drank some but nowhere near passing out.”

Tim paused and frowned in thought. “That’s true.”

“You’re damn right it’s true. Face it. I’m good for you.”

Tim looked over at Raylan. “Seriously, though, when we were, you know, together, I fell asleep without having to be blind drunk. And I slept through the night.”

“No nightmares?”

Tim shook his head. “I hadn’t thought about it.”

“Are you thinking about it now?”

“I’m trying,” Tim said pointedly.

Raylan gave his attention to the road, though there was a blizzard of feathers in his stomach. It was astounding to him that this man had come to mean so much to him in so short a time, but he was going to stop questioning it. He would take Winona’s advice and be the best Raylan he could be and hope that was good enough for Tim.

Tim spoke as Raylan turned onto South Cut Road. “I miss being with you,” he said.

Raylan’s head whipped around. He stared at Tim.

“Eyes on the road,” Tim said. “Goddammit, I wish you’d let me drive.”

“You can drive when we take your car.”

“Yours is so much more comfortable. Such a big backseat.”

Encouraged by Tim’s oblique reference to sexy times, Raylan pursued the subject. “You said you missed me.” 

Tim sighed. “I do miss you.” He glanced at Raylan’s profile. “I don’t want to, but I do.” He laughed, but it was a bitter sound. “What’s it been? Like two weeks since I walked out?”

“Seems like a lot longer.”

“We’re hopeless cases, the both of us.”

“Maybe we deserve each other then.”

Neither man spoke until Raylan made the turn onto Bridges Road.

“Out of curiosity,” Tim said. “How do you see it working? If we were together, I mean.”

“How would you want it to work?”

“I asked you first.”

Raylan flexed his fingers on the steering wheel. “In a perfect world, we’d have a cabin, all modern amenities, of course, on a couple of hundred acres in the hills. We’d have horses and hounds and a shootin’ range. Occasionally, we’d go out and corral some bad guys before we came home to fuck like—”

“Like what?”

“I can’t think of anything cool.”

“Like bunnies?”

“You see the problem?”

Tim grinned and the ache in Raylan’s heart eased by a few degrees of magnitude. “Okay,” Tim said. “That plan sounds pretty good, but what about my propensity for melodrama?”

“I like it. Gets my blood up.”

“You’re a sick man.”

Raylan glanced at Tim. “So are you, but I don’t care.” He paused and then plunged ahead. “I promise I’ll stand by you, no matter what. If you freak out, I’ll be there to talk you down. If you want to fight with someone, I’ll spar with you. If you have nightmares, I’ll wake you up. Whatever you need, let me be the one to give it to you. No strings.”

“You’re killin’ me, Raylan. I— What the hell is that?”

Raylan stared at the bright orange glow on the horizon. “If I had to guess, I’d say a still blew up or more likely a meth lab.”

“I was hopin’ for a close encounter.”

“Most likely, it has somethin’ to do with Boyd.” Raylan put his foot down on the gas.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A siege.

Scene 21

As they approached the glow, Raylan turned off his headlights. When they saw the collection of vehicles parked around the yard of a rambling, one-story structure, Raylan killed the engine and coasted to the side of the road. The orange light came from a burning shed about seventy-five feet from the building.

Without speaking, he and Tim exited the car. He checked his ammo one more time while Tim got his rifle off the backseat. Silently, they entered the woods. Using hand signals, Raylan guided them to an unguarded storeroom window at the back. They climbed in and Raylan turned on his flashlight.

“Hold it right there,” a woman said.

Raylan and Tim stared at Ava who stood in the doorway holding a Mossberg shotgun in her manicured hands.

“It’s just us, darlin’,” Raylan said, keeping his hands where she could see them. “Me and Tim.”

“Oh, yeah.” Ava smiled at Tim. “You’re the one with the good manners.”

“And a Remington.” Tim held up his rifle.

“She’s a beaut,” Ava said. She gestured with the shotgun. “Y’all come on. Boyd’s real anxious to talk to you.”

“I can just imagine. What are you doing here?” Raylan asked as he followed Ava down a narrow corridor with Tim at his back.

“Congratulate me. This is my honeymoon.”

“What?”

“Yeah, the other day, instead of taking me to work, Boyd took me a justice of the peace.”

“Now why would you do somethin’ insane like marry Boyd Crowder? Even if he wasn’t a criminal, he’s your dead husband’s brother.”

“I guess you could say he swept me off my feet.”

“The same way his brother Bowman did?”

Ava glanced over her shoulder. “No. Boyd don’t use his fists.” She held up her left hand where a large diamond sparkled on her ring finger. “He ain’t like that.”

“He’s mean as a snake,” Raylan disagreed, as they walked into the large main room. He immediately noticed that several of the windows were broken out.

Boyd sat behind the bar with his eyes on the front window. Outside, about twenty men leaned on pickup trucks and SUVs holding rifles and handguns.

“Thank you for coming, Raylan,” Boyd said. “May I offer you a libation?”

“I didn’t come here to drink. What’s the situation? Why hasn’t that army rushed this place? Wait, don’t tell me. You planted booby traps, right?”

“I most certainly did.” Boyd grinned. “But that won’t deter those boys forever. They already set off two of my traps with remote control cars.”

“Nice,” Tim said under his breath.

“Deputy Marshal Gutterson,” Boyd greeted him. “I did not expect to see you, but I am grateful for your, shall we say, lethal presence and that of your friend, the Remington 700. I was not aware you were a fellow warrior.”

“ _You_ served?”

“I did.”

Tim glanced at Raylan, and Raylan nodded. After a moment, Tim held out his fist and Boyd bumped it. Tim nodded, and then went to a vantage point where he could observe the men outside without being seen. Raylan cocked an eyebrow at Tim’s abrupt change of attitude toward Boyd, but he didn’t remark on it.

“Who are those guys?” Raylan nodded toward the front window.

“Just the usual assortment of Bennetts and Deans.”

“Let me guess, you moved in on their territory.”

“I’m ambitious, Raylan. You know that. I have a higher destiny.”

“Your destiny includes an orange jumpsuit and crapping in public on a cold, stainless-steel toilet.”

“That’s just mean.”

“That’s just a fact. Come on. Let’s get you and Ava out the way me and Tim got in.”

“Could have done that already if I wanted to. I was hopin’ you might persuade the Bennetts to leave me in peace.”

Raylan stared at Boyd. “Really?”

“Never hurts to ask.”

Raylan snorted. “Congratulations, by the way. This is one hell of a honeymoon.”

“Now, don’t be jealous, Raylan. You had your chance with Ava.”

Ava looked over, smiled at Boyd, and went back to watching the door with the Mossberg resting against her hip.

Raylan looked away from her statuesque silhouette. “Why are you still here puttin’ her in danger?” he asked Boyd.

“Because I have a shipment in a backroom.”

“What is it?”

“You sure you want to know?”

“Do you have any idea how mad I am that you’ve involved me in your drug business? And Tim too?”

“I’m cool,” said Tim from his place in the drapes. “You just let me know when you want me to start disarming that shitkicker platoon out there.”

Boyd looked at Raylan and shook his head. “There’s one more thing. My partner in this grand enterprise will kill me if I give it up.”

“Who did you smooth talk into partnering up with you?”

“Arlo Givens.”

“Shit.” Raylan grimaced. “Tim. Don’t fire yet. Let’s hear everything before we start shooting.” He gave Boyd a hard stare. “Whatever my father’s involvement is don’t matter right now.”

“Okay, but I need to get the product out of here before that bunch decides to burn us out.”

“Which they will eventually do,” Tim said.

“They mad enough at you to throw away a profit?” Raylan asked Boyd.

“Yeah, I reckon they are. It’s possible one of Mags’s boys was injured in a fire fight with some of mine.”

“Where are your boys?”

“Like rats deserting a sinking ship, they all threw in with Billy Call. They figure to re-invent themselves as bank robbers.”

“They should have kept you then. You’re still the best at robbin’ banks in my book.”

“Why, thank you, Raylan.” Boyd took a bow. “That means the world to me.”

Ava rolled her eyes. “If y’all are done suckin’ one another’s dicks, could you work on a plan to get us out of here with the product?”

“Well, we cain’t carry it, baby,” Boyd said.

“Bury it,” Tim said.

“What?”

“Pull up some floorboards, dig a hole, and bury it. Come back for it later.”

“It would have to be a big hole.” Boyd thought for a minute. “It could be done, if we all dig.”

“No, thank you,” Tim said.

“Same here,” Raylan said. “Do we even know if there’s a shovel around here?”

“I seen one,” Ava said. “I’ll get it.”

“If you’ll take my post, I’ll work on the floorboards,” Tim said. “But I’m not digging.’

“We ain’t decided anything yet,” Boyd protested. “Do you have any idea how long it would take to dig a big enough hole?”

“It takes about six hours for one man to dig a six-foot-deep grave,” Tim answered. “You can do the math yourself.”

“You reckon you can hold those boys off that long?”

“He can,” Raylan said.

Tim intercepted Ava and took the shovel from her. She’d also picked up a hatchet, which she handed him. “Outstanding.” He smiled at her before going to the storeroom.

“He’s an awful nice boy,” Ava said to Raylan.

“Don’t you go flirtin’ with him, now,” Boyd warned. “You a married woman, Mrs. Crowder.”

“Handy, marryin’ another Crowder,” Raylan said. “You didn’t have to get new monogrammed towels and such.”

“You sound jealous,” Ava said.

“I got my own fancy towels,” Raylan answered. “I’m going to go help Tim.”

“We’ll find a way to pass the time,” Boyd said.

The night was spent digging, napping, and firing warning shots at men who wandered too close to the house. It took Boyd a little less than seven hours to dig the hole. Tim was impressed and said so. It took much less time for Ava to toss the garbage bags of marijuana into the pit. After a short rest, Boyd started shoveling dirt back in. He was almost finished when he finally gave out. Ava led him to a room with a cot, and Boyd fell asleep.

 

Time break

 

Raylan went looking for Tim and found him in the storeroom peering into the darkness.

“Hey,” Raylan said softly, not wanting to startle Tim.

Tim continued staring out the window.

“What’s up?” Raylan said as he walked around the nearly-filled pit.

“I thought I heard something.”

Raylan walked over and stood behind Tim but not too close. “Sorry I got you mixed up in this.”

“I volunteered, if you recall.”

“Yeah. Why’d you do that?”

“How would I know?”

“Tim….”

“You can say whatever you want. You don’t need my permission.”

“Afraid I do. Because what I’d really like is to hold you for just a minute.”

“Aren’t you going to say something about how we might die tonight and never have a chance to do this again?”

“Would it help?”

“Believe it or not, yeah, it does.”

Slowly, Raylan moved closer and wrapped his arms around Tim’s waist. He pulled him close, careful with the rifle, and buried his face in Tim’s hair.

Ava watched from the doorway as Raylan bent his neck and kissed Tim’s nape. Tim leaned the rifle against the wall, turned in Raylan’s embrace, and looked up at him. Raylan covered Tim’s mouth with his as Ava stood in shocked silence. It was not just the sight of Raylan kissing a man that stunned her, but also the effect it had on her. She was turned on. Now wasn’t that a hell of a thing? Walking softly, she went to Boyd.

“Hey, baby,” Boyd said, as Ava entered the room. He was surprised but delighted when she straddled him and kissed him passionately. “I am not complainin’, but what brought that on?”

“Baby, you wouldn’t believe me, but since this is our honeymoon….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of the stand-off.

Scene 22

“That’s enough,” Tim said and pushed Raylan away. “We’re on the job.” He paused. “And I haven’t made up my mind about that yet."

“Fair enough, I guess. Shouldn’t Boyd be back at work by now?”

“Cut him a little slack. He’s a lowlife with delusions of style, but he can flat work. I’ve seen holes dug faster in Afghanistan but not much faster.”

“He was motivated.”

“Right. Shall we get back to work?”

Tim and Raylan went back the front room and took up stations on either side of the big window frame. The men were still out there, but they’d learned to stay a respectful distance away. They didn’t stray far from the cover of their vehicles.

“Looks like there’s a summit meeting at the Escalade,” Raylan said.

“Yep.” Tim looked through his scope. “They’re nerving themselves up to do somethin’.”

“Why don’t you give ‘em somethin’ else to talk about?”

Tim blew the side mirror off the Escalade and the group of men scattered.

Raylan chuckled. “Look at ‘em. Like a covey of quail.”

One of the men didn’t run but stood by the tailgate of a green and white Ford pickup staring at the house. “Goddammit, Boyd Crowder!”

“Is that… a woman?” Tim said.

Raylan peered at the stocky figure. “Shit, that’s Mags Bennett. Don’t shoot her.”

“Okay.”

“She’s kind of a friend of the family.”

“Whatever. You say, don’t shoot; I don’t shoot.”

Raylan was momentarily humbled by the power Tim handed him, but he got over it. “Boyd!” he shouted. “Get your narrow ass out here.”

Boyd and Ava came out looking disheveled. His hair was in tufts and she had her camisole on inside-out.

“Really?” Raylan said. “Were you really consummatin’ your marriage _now_?”

“We might not get another chance.” Ava met Raylan’s eyes. “I’m sure you know what I mean.”

“I’m sure we all do,” Raylan answered, puzzled by her sly tone. “Boyd, Mags wants a word with you.”

“I’m sure she does, but I ain’t in the mood to talk to her.”

“I had a little talk with her while we were waitin’ on you.”

Boyd sobered. “You did, did you? And just what lies did that old sow tell you.”

“Did you shoot Dickie Bennett in the leg?”

“I shot at Dickie. If he caught one in the leg, I suppose it could have been mine. The truth is, Dickie and his brothers were firing at me, and you know how hard it is to make a shot on the run.”

“Amen,” Tim interjected.

“If Dickie got shot, that’s on Mags for raising him wrong.”

“I don’t think you want to tell her that,” Raylan said.

“I don’t want to tell her anything. I want to finish burying my stash and blow this place to Kingdom Come.”

“Uh-huh.” Raylan gave Boyd a long assessing stare. “Look, I know what I owe you, Boyd, but I’ve got my limits.”

“He does,” Tim affirmed and caught a black look from Raylan. He did not appear to be affected by it in the least.

“Boyd Crowder,” Mags yelled from outside. “Come out and face justice. Marshal, if he don’t come out, you bring him out.”

“I’m inclined to grant her request,” Raylan said.

Ava gasped. “You cain’t.”

“Boyd knew what could happen if he started poaching on other criminals’ territories.”

Ava moved closer and put her hands on Raylan’s chest as she looked up into his eyes. “Come on now,” she said. “We’re newlyweds.”

“They’re edging in,” Tim said from the window.

“Brush ‘em back.”

Tim’s rifle barked three times. A bearded man hollered in pain as a shotgun flew from his hands with a shattered stock. Gasoline poured from a punctured tank. The third shot ignited the fumes. Bennetts and Deans quickly cleared the area around the truck as the tank exploded and rained burning debris on nearby vehicles.

“Oops,” Tim said.

“Tim.”

“Yeah, I know. That was overkill.”

“Tim!”

Tim reacted to the urgency in Raylan's voice. He turned and saw Boyd holding a service Barretta on his partner. “How the hell did that peacock get the drop on you?” he asked calmly.

“I might have distracted him,” Ava said.

“Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“We’re goin’ now,” Boyd said. “I intend to blow this place up, so you might want to think about vacatin’ the premises.”

“Do you really think I’ll let you keep pointing that gun at Raylan?”

“I think I could shoot him before you get me,” Boyd said.

“It would be close,” Tim allowed.

“But then I’d shoot you,” Ava told Tim.

Tim shrugged. “Let’s see what happens if your husband doesn’t put that gun down.”

“Baby,” Ava said. “Come on now. You know ain’t goin’ to shoot Raylan.”

Boyd glanced at her. “I might,” he said.

Tim fired. The bullet went though Boyd’s hand and sent the gun flying. Raylan grabbed the shotgun from Ava while she was staring in shock at Boyd.

“What the hell is goin’ on in there?” Mags called out.

Raylan backed over to the window holding the shotgun. “It’s okay, Mags. Deputy Marshal Gutterson had to shoot Boyd.”

“Where’d he peg him?”

“His shootin’ hand.”

Mags smiled. “That’ll do.” She winked at Raylan. “Course, you know we’re still going to burn this place.”

“You’d be doin’ the county a favor.”

“You’re all right, Raylan. Your daddy used to run you down, but I always knew you’d amount to somethin’ someday.”

“Why, thank you kindly, ma’am.” Raylan tipped his hat.

“You best skedaddle now, boy,” Mags said, before she walked back to her pickup.

Tim looked over at Raylan. “Shall we skedaddle?”

“I think it would be wise.” Raylan walked over to Boyd and Ava. “Boyd, do whatever it is you’re going to do. We’re leaving.”

“That might be difficult with only one hand,” Boyd said bitterly.

“I’ll help you,” Tim said. “What are we talking about?”

“Under the circumstances, we’ll go with my last resort. I’ve got a Norwegian under the back porch. No timer. Crude as fuck. So, we get to a safe distance, and chuck a cocktail.”

“Or we could get to a really safe distance and I could put a bullet through the stick.”

“That would do it,” Boyd said. “If you’re accurate enough.”

Tim gave Boyd a level look.

“Right,” Boyd said. “Accordin’ to Raylan, you don’t miss.”

“Not so far.”

Boyd finished tamping the dirt that covered the bags by walking over it. He helped Ava out the storeroom window and went through after her. Boyd slid through the opening and landed like a cat. Raylan took Tim’s rifle, while Tim climbed out. They hurried to the woods and stopped under the cover of the trees.

“Where is it?” Tim asked.

“If you’ll permit me?” Boyd said. He moved in close behind Tim and peered over his shoulder.

Tim gave him an arctic side-eye. “You’re in my personal space.”

“If you’ll allow me to touch the barrel of that fine weapon, I believe I can help line up your shot.”

Tim thought about it for a split-second and then nodded.

Slowly, Boyd reached around Tim’s shoulder and adjusted the tilt of the rifle while Tim stared through the scope. “You see it yet?”

Tim gave another tiny nod. Raylan grabbed Boyd’s jacket and yanked him backward.

“Easy,” Boyd said. He straightened his jacket.

“Do it,” Raylan told Tim. “Before any of those people get closer to the building.”

Tim pulled the trigger. The bullet impacted the dynamite, which exploded with a noise like a second, louder report. The boards of the porch flew upward in a column of smoke. In a few seconds, small fires were blazing.

Raylan patted Tim’s shoulder. “Nice shootin’.”

“Anytime.”

“You mean that?”

“Now’s not the time to talk about that.” Tim cast a significant glance at Ava and Boyd who had their arms wrapped around one another.

“Oh, hell, they don’t give a flying fuck about us. They’re busy trying to figure a way out of this that don’t end with them in prison or broke and on the run.”

“We’ll talk in the car, okay?”

“Okay.” Raylan gazed at Tim in the light of the fire. “I really wish I could hold you right now. It pisses me off that Boyd can hug Ava, but I can’t hug you.”

“Does it piss you off that Ava can hug Boyd?”

“What?” Raylan furrowed his brow. “Oh, you think I was… what? Calling you a girl or something? What?”

“I thought it was a telling choice of word order.”

“I’m old-school. I can’t help it. But I don’t mean anything by it.” Raylan shrugged. "I'd call you baby if I didn't think you'd knock me into next week."

Tim pursed his lips to keep from smiling. “Okay. That’s acceptable.”

“Hey,” Boyd called out. “You can make out later. Let’s get to your car before one of Dickie’s brothers decides a busted hand ain’t enough.”

“Shut up, before _I_ decide a busted hand ain’t enough,” Raylan answered.

Boyd looked at Ava. “Raylan sure did turn mean while he was gone.”

“It’s the big city, baby. Makes a man hard.”

“No more talking,” Raylan said. “Or Tim’s going to shoot you again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raylan and Tim work some things out.

Scene 23

The dynamite inside the cabin exploded as Raylan, Tim, Ava, and Boyd were getting into Raylan’s car. The resulting fire lit the horizon and, in a few seconds, they felt the wind of the blast. As if it were a signal, Raylan put the vehicle in gear. After making a deft three-point turn, he headed away from the disaster, though it was hard to shake the feeling he was headed toward another one.

“You could just drop us off by my truck, Raylan,” Boyd said from the backseat.

“No, I couldn’t.”

“Well, why not?” Ava asked.

“Because you’re criminals, Ava, and I’m an agent of the law.”

“Where’s the evidence?” she asked.

“Buried back at that house.”

“And who helped conceal it?”

Tim looked over at Raylan, a small smile on his lips. “The lady is right.” He glanced into the backseat. “Beauty and brains,” he drawled as he turned back to Raylan. “We’re accessories.”

“I know that. I knew it when I let him do it.” Raylan sighed. “Where’s your truck, Boyd?”

“Fact is, if you were to pull over right here, it’s an easy walk.”

Raylan eased into the long grass on the narrow shoulder, and then Boyd and Ava got out.

“Thank you,” Ava said.

“Consider it a weddin’ present, darlin’.” Raylan looked over at Boyd. “I’ll be seeing you,” he said, before he rolled up his window and drove away.

Tim noted the set of Raylan’s jaw. “Aw, come on,” he said lightly. “So, you didn’t get to bag a bad guy. We still had fun, right?”

Raylan gave him a sidewise look. “Yeah, I guess.”

“You guess? Admit it. You like watching me shoot stuff. It turns you on.”

“Yeah,” Raylan said grudgingly. “So?”

“So, I like shooting stuff. It makes me hard. That’s got to mean something.”

“Are you being serious right now?”

“As a myocardial infarction.”

“I don’t know what that is, but it sure sounds serious. Why don’t you hold that thought until I can get us off the road? I don’t want to be in control of a car while we have this discussion.”

“Sure.” Tim settled back in the comfortable passenger seat. His nerves were still singing from the thrill of participating in what could only be called a clandestine mission, using his marksmanship skills, and their escape from a potentially deadly situation. He needed to take the edge off, and that was a fact, but he could be patient for a while.

Raylan pulled into a rest area off the highway and parked as far as possible from the bathrooms and vending machines. He and Tim got out and sat on a concrete picnic table under a shelter. There was only one other vehicle in the lot, a Winnebago with out-of-state plates. At the other end of the area, a senior couple walked a pair of tiny, silky-haired dogs. At least, Raylan thought they were dogs, but they could have been some kind of hamster for all he knew.

“You want a soda or somethin’?” Raylan asked.

“No, thanks.”

“So, I’ll just come right out and ask. Do you give us a chance?”

“I’ve been thinking about it.”

“Go on,” Raylan after a few seconds passed.

“I knew when it started that this thing between us wouldn’t last. I knew it was stupid to even start, but…. I guess I needed it more than I knew.” Tim took a shaky breath. “I figured we’d meet up a few times, have some rough sex, and then the novelty would wear off, and it would be _real_ awkward at work for a while.” He cleared his throat. “But that didn’t happen.”

“You didn’t think I’d come to care for you?”

“Not for a second. Or I wouldn’t have let it happen that first time.”

“So, you thought I was just… what? Curious?”

“Honestly?” Tim cocked his head to the side. “I thought it was a thrill-seeking kind of thing.”

Raylan was quiet for several seconds. “I’m really sorry you feel that way.”

“Felt.”

“What?”

“I felt that way. Past tense.”

“Yeah, you’re way beyond tense.”

Tim stared at Raylan, and then he said. “Good one.”

“Thank you. How do you feel now?” Raylan got back to the point.

“I decided, if you can call it a decision, that since I don’t know what I want, and you do, I’m willing to try being with you and see if that works.”

“You mean it?” Raylan was suspicious. This was way too easy.

“I’m better with you than without you, and that’s a fact.” Tim paused. “When Boyd Crowder pointed that gun at you….” He paused again. “Let’s just say I got some perspective on it that makes me want to try.”

“That’s all I ask.”

“But we’re going to need some ground rules.”

“Yeah, good idea.”

“I’m glad you agree.”

“I just want to be with you, Tim. You set whatever conditions make you happy.”

“It’s not going to be like that.”

Raylan took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. “Tell me how it’s going to be then.”

“Let’s start with some facts.” Tim looked into Raylan’s eyes. “I’m fucked up. That’s no secret. I’d be lucky to have someone like you put up with my drama. That’s what you need to understand before anything else.” He paused. “You’re used to relationships where you want what the other person has, and you do what you have to do in order to get it. You’re like a pro athlete going after a trophy.”

“Oh… kay.”

“I’m sayin’ you don’t have to win me or whatever. I’m not the fuckin’ Holy Grail, okay?”

Raylan nodded. “Stipulated. Anythin’ else?” 

“Yeah, there’s somethin’ else. I think we can agree that, while you have your flaws, my cracks are deeper.”

“I thought you said it wasn’t a contest.”

Tim ignored the remark. “Are you truly willing to take me on? And everything that comes with me? If I can even talk myself into putting that on you?”

“Yes.” Raylan put his hand over Tim’s, and Tim let it stay there. “Yes, to all of it. You’re not putting it on me; I’m taking it on myself. Not just your PTSD, but also all the problems that come with being a, you know, same-sex couple.” He squinted at Tim. “Did that sound as ridiculous as I think it did?”

“Oh, yeah. But it was really sweet too.”

“That’s what they say about me. That Raylan Givens sure is sweet.”

“No, they don’t. No one says that about either of us.”

“Yeah, probably not.” 

“Mostly they call us dicks.”

“Well, they aren’t wrong.” Raylan looked around when the Winnebago’s engine started up. He didn’t speak again until the elderly couple was gone. “So, what are the rules?”

“It sounds dumb, but I just need space.”

“Done. What else?”

“Were you listening? Or just agreeing automatically?”

“I heard you.”

“That means you can’t start talking about moving in together or gettin’ engaged or some such nonsense.”

“Can I sleep over?”

Tim sighed. “What do you have against my fetish for sleazy motels?” 

Encouraged by the fact that the tone had lightened, Raylan laced his fingers through Tim’s. “So, are we good?”

“Are we good?” Tim repeated. “Probably not. I’d say we’re fair, and we’re on the side of justice, but we’re not really all that good, are we?”

“Not always,” Raylan allowed. “Sometimes you have to do things you aren’t proud of to get the job done.”

“You can’t do that with me. You can’t hide things from me or lie to me for my own good and you have to let me get to where you want me to be in my own time.”

Raylan nodded. “Got it.”

“You do?”

“Well… where is it you think I want you to be?”

“In love with you.”

Raylan looked down at his fingers twined with Tim’s. “You know I love you, right?”

“I suspected.”

“I can’t help it. Maybe I fall too easily, but it isn’t just me bein’ a horn dog.”

“I can see that.”

“If you need to hear it, I’m tellin’ you I won’t put pressure on you. Whatever you want to give me, I will take and not ask for more.”

“Then I think we can deal with anything else as it comes up.” Tim stood. “Glad that’s settled.”

“So… we’re letting it hang fire?” Raylan smiled.

Tim returned the smile.

“We still got a few miles to go,” Raylan said, as he got to his feet. “Maybe we should stop off somewhere.”

“You think so, huh?” Tim shoved Raylan against one of the concrete block columns that held up the shelter. He took hold of Raylan’s ears and drew him down into a long, hot, wet kiss. He rested his weight against Raylan and pressed their lower halves tightly together.

“Fuck,” Raylan breathed, when Tim let him up for air. “Are you as hot as I am?”

“If you’re hot enough to fuck on this picnic table, then yeah.”

“Outstanding.” Raylan grabbed Tim by the biceps and swung him around, or at least he tried to.

“Oh, no, no,” Tim said. “I’m on top this time.”

Raylan looked the cold, hard slab of concrete, and then he looked into Tim’s dark blue eyes, liquid with the heat of his passion. “Fine,” he said. “But you ain’t gettin’ your way every time, just so you know.”

“Have you forgotten you’re just here to suck my dick?”

Raylan grinned. “Bring it over here, Beauregard.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued. Only two more chapters to go, plus an epilogue. I know it doesn't have much of a plot, just an excuse to put Raylan and Tim in situations, so thank you for reading and being kind.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some hi-jinks and tomfoolery.

Scene 24

Three months later….

Raylan walked over to the small group of his colleagues. He greeted Art and Rachel and then reached out as though to adjust Tim’s tie and chucked him under the chin. Tim rolled his eyes at this horseplay, but he didn’t recoil. Raylan counted it as a victory.

Being half of a couple that included Tim Gutterson was sheer insanity, but perhaps that was part of the appeal for Raylan. He wasn’t sure which of them was steel and which was flint, but he knew they’d be striking sparks off each other till the end. One more thing he knew for certain, life would never be boring, and that was just the way he liked it. He would go to his grave maintaining that makeup sex was the best sex of all.

“Listen up,” Art said. “Ms. Brooks will once again take the lead, so you take your orders from her.”

“Thanks, chief,” Rachel said. “As you know, this is a training exercise for the benefit of some DEA rookies. Our men will be deployed as terrorists defending a base of operations. I’m sure you’ll acquit yourselves superbly.”

“What’s the ordinance?” Raylan asked, none to happy to be cast as piece-of-shit terrorist.

“You’ll have bean bag rifles,” Art said. “And don’t kid yourself, they pack a punch.”

“Hell, yeah, they do,” Tim said.

“What? You’ve been shot with one?” Raylan said. “When?”

“Me and some other marshal trainees took turns shooting each other.”

“Why?”

Tim did his one-shoulder shrug. “To see what it felt like.”

“And what does it feel like?” Rachel asked.

“I have not been punched by Mike Tyson, but I imagine that’s what it would feel like. It put me on the ground. All I could do was try to breathe.”

“Okay then,” Raylan said. “This could be fun.”

“Oh, hell yeah,” Tim said.

 

Time break

 

After the tactical exercise, in which Tim and Raylan thoroughly humiliated an entire class of DEA rookies, Art and Raylan went to a debriefing with the instructor. Tim went to the trailer where Rachel had her command post.

“God, it’s hot in here.” Tim unfastened his Kevlar vest and flapped it, trying to cool off.

“Why, good suh, you are givin’ me the vapuhs,” Rachel said in a cheesy Southern belle voice. She fanned her face.

“Did I forget my deodorant?”

Rachel chuckled. “No, I mean like—” She hummed the melody of “The Stripper.”

“Oh, I get it.” Tim let the vest slide off one shoulder and gave her a sultry look.

Rachel grinned and sang louder.

Wearing the same grin, Tim vamped around in front of her chair, letting the vest slide off one shoulder and then the other. He pulled one hand from the armhole and swung the vest around his head while doing a very creditable bump-and-grind. Neither heard the door open.

“What the hell is goin’ on?” Art said loudly.

“Um, I was bored, chief, so I ordered Tim to strip for me,” Rachel said.

“Well hell, let’s get a pole in here then,” Art said.

“A pole?” Raylan repeated from behind Art.

“Yeah, Raylan, a pole,” Art said. “Strippers use ‘em in their act. You probably weren’t aware since you never go into such dens of iniquity.”

“Who’s stripping?”

“That would be me,” Tim said.

Raylan blinked. “What planet did I wake up on?”

“It appears to be Planet Rachel, since she’s queen here,” Art answered.

“Finally, you recognize my true station.” Rachel gave the males a haughty look. “Now, how about we get to work?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Art said. “But I want to say something first.”

“Here we go,” Tim said under his breath.

Raylan caught Tim’s eye and smiled at him.

“Hush up.” Art wasn’t smiling. “If you can stop acting the fool for two minutes, Raylan, I’ve got something I’d like say.”

“It wasn’t me; it was him.” Raylan pointed at Tim.

“Well, you’re responsible for him, so be a man about it.” Art was smiling now at the shocked look on Raylan’s handsome face. “One of the things I want to say is how happy I am for you and Tim. By some miracle, you found the one person who could put up with your brand of crazy.”

“Um, excuse me, Chief,” Rachel said. “Are Raylan and Tim still just partners, or are they getting engaged or something?”

“Hell, no,” Tim said.

“I’m a little hurt,” Raylan told Tim. “You wouldn’t marry me?”

Rachel looked from Raylan to Tim to Art and then back to Raylan. “Someone want to let me in on this?”

“I thought you knew,” Art said. “Well, shit, me and my big mouth.”

Rachel looked at Raylan, but it was Tim who spoke.

“Me and Raylan got a thing goin’ on,” he drawled.

“Yeah, I know, but—” Rachel’s eyes widened. “Wait. You’ve got to be kidding me.” She looked from Tim to Raylan and back. “You two? Really? All that homoerotic banter wasn’t just banter?”

Raylan shook his head.

“But you’re not gay!” Rachel burst out.

Tim raised his eyebrows. “He’s not, but I am?”

“You’re you, you could be anything,” Rachel said. “But Mr. Marlboro Man here….” She paused. “This better not be some practical joke the three of you cooked up.”

“Nope,” Raylan said.

“If I could get back to my speech?” Art interrupted. He cleared his throat. “My point is that the four of us have become a good team. I just wanted to acknowledge what each of you brings to the mix. Or blend. Or whatever you want to call it. I trust the three of you with my life, and I hope you feel the same way about me.”

“Absolutely,” Rachel said.

Raylan nodded. He was a little choked up.

“Now I’m all emotional,” Tim said. “Someone hold me.”

After a second of dead silence, everyone laughed.

“We good?” Tim asked. “Because I came here to work.” He paused. “And then we banter.”

“Hell yeah,” Raylan said.

Art deferred to Rachel.

“Okay, boys,” Rachel said. “I order you to come with me to eat and drink to excess.”

Tim held out his fist for her to bump. Art pretended to feel snubbed. Raylan, for the first time in company, put his arm around Tim. No one objected... except for Tim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued. I'm posting the last chapter today, but there's an epilogue. Thank you so much reading.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim has a nightmare. Raylan helps him sleep.

Chapter 25

Raylan woke reaching for his sidearm. He heard a crash and then Tim cried out. Heart pounding, Raylan put his hands on his thrashing partner.

“Tim?”

Tim cried out again like someone having his skin peeled off. Raylan switched on the bedside lamp and knocked it to the floor. Tim was in the grip of a nightmare. Sweat beaded his skin as he fought with the sheets. Raylan caught hold of Tim’s right wrist and held on. Tim lashed out with his other hand and caught Raylan on the cheekbone. Raylan’s vision blurred and for an awful moment, he thought his eye had popped out of the socket. He managed to capture Tim’s flailing left hand and pinned it to the mattress. Tim bucked and the back of his skull hit the headboard hard enough to daze him. He went still, and Raylan let his weight settle on him. Both were breathing hard as they lay in temporary peace.

“Tim?” Raylan whispered. “You awake?”

“Yeah.” Tim took a gasping breath. “I thought I was back there.”

“Iraq?” Raylan guessed.

“No, the other one.”

“Afghanistan.”

“Yeah.”

Raylan rolled onto his side but kept an arm around Tim. “Better now?”

Tim took a shuddering breath and let it out again. “Some.”

Raylan pulled Tim to his chest and held him close. Tim wasn’t much of a cuddler, but Raylan was wearing him down. Raylan loved idling in bed snuggled up to a warm, content body, but unless Tim fell asleep after sex, he was up and out of the bed almost as soon as he came. At the moment, however, Tim needed to be held, and Raylan was going to hold him.

“Can I get you anything?” Raylan asked.

“Like what?”

“Hot milk. Whisky. Pacifier.”

Tim groaned. “No. Just… don’t let me go.”

“Never.” Raylan kissed Tim’s sweat-damp forehead. “You’re mine, and I’m keepin’ you.”

“You’re so gay.”

“Who woulda thunk it.” Raylan rubbed Tim’s back soothingly.

“That’s real nice.” Tim burrowed his face into the crook of Raylan’s neck.

“I can do this all day… and all night too.”

“Knock yourself out,” Tim murmured drowsily.

“You want to talk about anything?”

“Why?”

“Because you haven’t had a nightmare in all the time we’ve been together.”

“It wasn’t anything you did. Or didn’t do.”

Raylan sighed in relief that he hadn’t somehow triggered the night terrors. “You remember what you were dreaming about?”

“I was back there.” Tim’s lips moved against Raylan’s neck. “In the dark place.”

Raylan was startled to hear the same words he used to describe his worst memory. “This was in Afghanistan?” he prompted.

“Yeah.” Tim shifted slightly, relocating one of his contours to one of Raylan’s hollows, instinctively aligning their bodies to a perfect fit. “Me and Mark, my spotter, were up in the hills after some Afghani bandits called themselves freedom fighters. I actually admired them. Thought they were, you know, true warriors or some such bullshit.” He paused. “But they were animals. No. Not animals. Animals wouldn’t have done what they did to Mark.”

“You want to tell me?” Raylan didn’t want to hear whatever barbaric horror made a man like Tim Gutterson wake up screaming, but he’d listen. He’d made a promise.

“Hell no.” Tim made a small snuffling noise. “I’ll just say they kept us in a hole together without room to do anything but stand there until we dropped, only we couldn’t. There were times I felt like I couldn’t breathe, and I was mad at Mark for using up air.”

“I’ve been in that dark place,” Raylan said softly.

Tim heard the truth in Raylan’s voice. It gave him the heart to continue his story. “They pulled us out randomly and tortured us. Usual stuff. Beatings and the like.”

Raylan tightened his arms around Tim. “I’m sorry.” He knew the words were inadequate, but he had to say something.

“The worst part was when they made me watch Mark being tortured. They took against him for some reason. He got it way worse than me.” Tim’s voice choked off. “When our guys got us out, they said we’d been missing for ten days. Seemed like longer.”

“But they got you out.”

“Yeah, they did, but Mark was never the same. The night before we were rescued, he died. Not literally, but the man I knew was gone. He was just gone and left a scared child in his place.”

Raylan’s held Tim tighter. “You know it wasn’t your fault, right?” He didn’t need to hear the answer. He’d known it before he asked the question. Of course, Tim thought it was his fault, just as he would in Tim’s place.

“But being brave for him got me through,” Tim whispered. “They broke his mind, but I was all right. At least, I thought I was.”

Raylan was finally seeing Tim’s demon clearly, and it was an ugly sonuvabitch. He’d never done an exorcism, and he had no idea how to go about it, other than what he’d seen in movies, but he did have certain skills. He didn’t know if they’d be enough, but he was sure as hell going to try. He would not lose Tim to the hell of his past. If he couldn’t do anything else for him, he could at least wear him out so he could sleep.

Gently, Raylan rolled so he and Tim lay side by side facing one another. He kissed Tim’s wet face until he no longer tasted salt. Tim’s body was quiescent under his hand as he stroked and squeezed. Not until he slid halfway down the mattress did Tim react.

Tim hooked his arms under Raylan’s and pulled him back up into the cradle of his body. He found Raylan’s mouth with his and kissed him as though it was the last kiss they’d ever have. He wrapped his legs around Raylan’s and lifted his pelvis suggestively, grinding his crotch against Raylan’s.

Raylan felt a little dizzy. “Whoa,” he said softly. “What’s on your mind?” 

“Do you think you could shut up and fuck me?”

Raylan swallowed audibly. “Do what?”

“He’s gonna make me say it,” Tim said under his breath. “I want you inside me.”

“Uh. Okay. It’s just… we’ve never done that. Damn near everything else, but not that.”

“I’m aware.” Tim groaned. “Just do me, Raylan. Come on.”

Raylan’s dick was so hard it ached. He cleared his throat. “Don’t we need somethin’?”

“My nightstand drawer.”

Raylan found a packet that claimed to hold a lubricated condom. He forbore to comment on Tim’s preparedness as he ripped open the foil and rolled the rubber onto his cock. When he looked down at Tim, he found Tim watching him, midnight blue eyes blazing with need.

“Give it to me,” he said.

Raylan obliged. But first, he kissed every inch of Tim that he could reach. Five months in, and he was still learning the terrain, though Tim allowed as how Raylan didn’t suck at sex. Raylan figured he’d master it the way he’d mastered sex with women. It was just a matter of desire, good kinesthetics—which Raylan was blessed with—and lots of practice. Raylan was fully committed to practicing.

Tim let Raylan get his fill of what he knew Raylan thought of as foreplay, grateful for the distraction. Raylan still didn’t understand that Tim didn’t need the tender caresses or slow build-up. Tim liked it best when Raylan got a little out of control, and he was getting middling good at pushing his partner over the edge.

“Stop,” Tim said breathlessly, and Raylan’s hand stopped moving on his dick. “Do it now.” He bent his knees and planted the soles of his feet on the mattress.

Raylan stared at the juncture of Tim’s lean thighs, at the crinkled opening shiny with his saliva. Abruptly, there was nothing he wanted more than to bury himself in Tim and give him as much pleasure as he could stand.

Tim moaned when he felt the latex-covered head of Raylan’s cock press against his asshole. He couldn’t remember wanting anything more than he wanted this. He’d never wanted it until he’d met Raylan, but now he wanted it with a ferocity that burned.

Raylan rotated his hips and the head of his shaft pushed into Tim. The resilient muscle flexed on Raylan’s dick, and he groaned at the exquisite sensation. He leaned in, sinking deeper, watching Tim’s face for cues.

Tim released his grip on the twisted sheets and the rest of his tensed muscles relaxed a bit. He ran his foot up Raylan’s calf, encouraging him to keep moving.

Raylan finally remembered to breathe when his full length was buried. He’d never felt anything this good in his life, until he pulled out and pushed back in. That felt so damn good that he kept doing it. Like any natural rider, he was attuned to his mount’s moods and adjusted his seat accordingly. When Tim reacted to a thrust with a shiver of pleasure, Raylan repeated the action, rolling his hips so the blunt head of his cock passed over the same spot that made Tim come apart under him. He felt the same glow of pride he’d felt each time he’d found a lover’s clitoris and driven her crazy.

Judging his moment, Raylan took hold of Tim’s hard-on and shuttled his hand from tip to base. Tim came, rising from the mattress to sink his teeth into Raylan’s shoulder. Raylan bent Tim almost double, resting his hands on the backs of Tim’s thighs as he drove in to the hilt. The most powerful orgasm he’d ever felt ran through him like lightning striking a tall pine. It went on for a brief eternity of perfect bliss before the world intruded.

Raylan collected himself and gently withdrew. He flopped onto his back and let out a big sigh of contentment. “Damn.”

Tim hummed his agreement.

“You need anything?”

“If I do, I’ll get it.”

“All right then.” Raylan eased up onto the bunched pillows. Casually, he removed the condom, tied it off, and tossed it into the wastebasket across the room.

“You’ve done that once or twice,” Tim drawled.

“Hope to do it again. Practice makes you perfect, I hear.”

“I’d say you’re there.”

Raylan looked over at Tim. “Come here,” he invited. To his surprise, Tim tucked right in under his arm and rested a cheek on his chest. Tim’s hand ended up tantalizingly near Raylan’s satisfied but always interested crotch. “So… I don’t suck at it?”

“Quit fishin’.” Tim snorted, his breath ruffling the halo of hair around Raylan’s nipple. “You deserve your reputation as a cocksman. You fucked me silly, okay?”

“I’m assumin’ that’s a good thing?”

“You make me smile, Raylan Givens.”

“Do I make you want to do that again soon?”

“Yes, you do.” Tim gazed up at Raylan. “Damn you.”

“I still cain’t always tell when you’re jokin’ with me.”

“Good. I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Why?” Raylan idly stroked Tim’s back.

“Because you’re cocky enough already.” Tim said something else Raylan didn’t catch.

“What was that?”

“I said, it’s not fair.” Tim traced the line where Raylan’s thigh met his torso. “If I didn’t know that was your first time makin’ love to a man, I’d assume you did it for a livin’.”

“That good, huh?”

“And there it is.” Tim chuckled softly. “It’s already gone to your head.”

“I’m just happy it was good for you.”

“It was… sublime.”

“I’m goin’ to pretend you aren’t bein’ sarcastic.”

“You’ll probably be happier if you do.”

Raylan cuffed the back of Tim’s head. “Ungrateful punk. I give you the fucking of your life and this is how you thank me?”

“I’m afraid so, but to be fair, you were warned.”

“That’s true.” Raylan kissed the top of Tim’s head. “Ain’t we a pair though.”

“Who else would have us?”

“According to you, I have a future in gay porn.”

“Probably pays better than bein’ a marshal.”

Raylan pretended to consider. “Nah, I’d have to move to Hollywood. Cain’t see me fittin’ in out there.”

“Yeah, I doubt they’d let you shoot whoever you want.”

“That settles it; I’m stayin’ right here.”

“In Kentucky, or in this bed?”

“In your arms… Beauregard.”

Tim rolled his eyes, but he didn’t object when Raylan drew him into a kiss. It was a sweet kiss, a pledge from Raylan to Tim, reaffirming that he would always have Tim’s back. They fell into exhausted sleep in each other’s arms, and whatever dreams they had were good ones.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter, but I'll be posting an epilogue tomorrow. Thank you for reading.


	26. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hang Fire is finished, but I didn't want to let these characters go just yet, so I wrote an epilogue. I wanted to show Raylan and Tim settling in to their relationship a little, and I wanted to see it through Winona's eyes. I hope you like this light-hearted addendum. Thanks for reading!

Epilogue

After a lot of thought—and foot-dragging on Tim’s part—Raylan and Tim went in together on a split-level lodge-style house on four hundred acres in the hills. It was mostly open ground with a small pond and stands of trees. Behind the house, the land rose sharply, and the back yard was bordered by woods. One of its most attractive qualities was its distance from the highway. Whenever they had a day off at the same time, they usually spent it at home.

It was a few minutes before seven in the morning, and breakfast was over. Raylan and Tim were dressed for work, but it was Raylan’s opinion Tim should stay home. Tim had a scratchy throat and a self-described “weird” headache, but his stomach was fine. It was Tim’s opinion that Raylan was over-reacting.

“I don’t feel that bad,” Tim protested.

Raylan took his hand off Tim’s forehead. “You’ve got a fever. Best thing for you is to stay here and rest. Drink lots of juice and water. I’ll bring home ice cream after work.”

“You know, if I have a cold or the flu, dairy products will just make the mucus worse.”

“Ew.” Raylan grimaced.

“Settle down. I’m not snotty.”

“The hell you ain’t.” Raylan put his hat on. “I got to go. You stay here and get some rest. Maybe you can head it off, whatever it is.”

Tim went to the front door with Raylan. “I’m really not that sick.”

“See that it stays that way.” Raylan leaned back in the door to kiss Tim.

“Was that smart, seeing as how you think I’m contagious?” Tim teased.

“Never claimed to be smart,” Raylan answered. He wrapped an arm around Tim and pulled him to his chest. “Goddam, I wish I knew what this power is that you have over me.”

“You like sex, Raylan, and I always give it up. That’s basis of our relationship.”

Raylan nuzzled Tim’s earlobe. “That’s what I call a strong foundation.”

Tim squirmed a little. “You’re tickling.”

“You know you love it.” Raylan ran his tongue from the divot between Tim’s collarbones to his chin. “Let’s go back inside.”

“You’d really force yourself on an invalid?”

Raylan chuckled. “Yes, I would, if that invalid is you.” He let go of Tim. “I ain’t got time for this now, but when I get home, I’m going to love you up proper.”

“Raylan, you do that every day and twice on Sunday.”

Raylan’s smile would have made Satan nervous. “Yeah, I guess I have been slackin’ off a little. Don’t you worry, darlin’. I’m goin’ to make sure your needs are bein’ met.”

Tim laughed. “I love you,” came out of his mouth and it was a toss-up who looked more surprised: him or Raylan. “Don’t make a big deal out of this,” he said quickly.

Raylan pulled Tim close again and hugged him tightly. “I feel the same way,” he said in Tim’s ear before he let him go. “Now get back in house, have some fuckin’ herbal tea or somethin’, and go back to bed. That’s where I want to find you when I get home.”

Tim pushed Raylan away. “Don’t forget the ice cream,” he said.

Before he left, Raylan took a last look at this simple, complicated, hard, gentle man who had him so spun up he didn’t know day from night. He had no idea how life with Tim was going to work out, but he figured that was pretty standard for all couples. If some asshole wanted to take exception to his choice of partner, Raylan would be happy to discuss the matter, but honestly, he still didn’t understand it himself.

It all came down to one moment, with emotions running high, a flash-point, when Raylan had looked at Tim and felt an irresistible pull that he hadn’t resisted. His polarity reversed, he orbited a new star, and yet the world continued to spin at the same rate of speed. Raylan had undergone a sea change, and he was good with that. He really was, believe it or don’t. He just hoped someday Tim would be too, sooner than later.

“What the hell are you thinkin’ about?” Tim asked.

“That you and me is the craziest thing to ever happen, and I will never understand why I suddenly wanted to nail you to the nearest surface, or where I got the guts to try, but I’m not one bit sorry.”

“Oh.” Tim smiled. “Me neither.”

“Liar.” Raylan kissed Tim one more time. “And I still want to nail you every time I look at you.”

“Go to work, maniac.”

Raylan drove away, and Tim went back inside. He was contemplating a hot shower versus going back to bed when someone knocked. He frowned, considered not answering, and then went to open the door.

“Tim!” Winona said brightly.

“Uh, hi, Winona.” Tim had never spoken to Raylan’s ex-wife alone, and he was fairly certain he didn’t want to. “Um, Raylan’s not here.”

“I know. I watched him drive off.”

Tim knew this was the point at which he should extend some pleasantry or other, inquire as to her business here, or invite her inside, but he was frozen. She said she’d watched Raylan drive off. _How long had she been watching?_

“You should see your face,” Winona said.

Tim cleared his throat, though he had no idea what he was going to say.

“If you’re wondering, yes, I did see Raylan sayin’ goodbye to you.” Winona paused. “You want to invite me in? Or do you want to talk about this on the porch?”

Tim regained some equilibrium. He pointedly looked left and right at the acres of open land. “I don’t think the neighbors will mind, but come on in, if that’s what you want.”

“Before you get too deep into that attitude, I’m not here to threaten you or anything like that. You’re safe from me, Deputy Tim.”

“It worries me that you thought you had to say that.”

“Well, you aren’t the most trusting soul, are you, now?”

“Good point. Coffee?” Tim said as he gestured to her to have a seat. “Or we’ve got some herbal tea. Orange juice? Water?”

“I’d love some coffee. Black.”

Tim went into the kitchen area and returned with a mug of coffee and a glass of juice.

Winona stared at the pistol-grip-shaped handle of the mug. “Really?”

“Art gave Raylan a set of six. He thinks he’s funny.”

“Art or Raylan?” She smiled.

Tim didn’t smile back. “So, if you didn’t come here to see Raylan….”

“Oh, I did, but by the time I recovered from my shock, he was gone.”

“Where did you park that we didn’t see you?”

“Aw, come on, you have to leave a girl a few secrets.”

“If there’s a place near the cabin where an enemy can lay in wait, I’d like to know.”

“I’m surprised you don’t already know.”

Tim looked sheepish. “Yeah, me too.”

“Truth is, I pulled around the back, so I’d be facing out when I got ready to leave. I cleared the side of the cabin just in time to see that sweet kiss.”

“I don’t really want to talk a—”

“Too bad I’m not the kind of person who can see something like that and not be consumed with curiosity. Just answer a few questions, how about it?”

“This is too awkward. I think you should probably just go.”

“You afraid to be alone with me?” Winona joked. “Should I worry about you hittin’ on me?”

One corner of Tim’s lips quirked upward in a wry smile. “That’s not gonna happen.”

“So, it’s just guys with you? You’re not switch-hitter like Raylan?”

“I’m not sure what Raylan is.”

Winona chuckled. “You have no idea how many times I’ve had that same thought.”

Tim cleared his throat.

“I’m makin’ you uncomfortable, huh?” Winona said.

“Little bit.”

“Try to see it from my point of view.”

“What’s your point of view?”

“Well… I just don’t get it. I mean, Raylan is a _man_. So, what’s he doin’ foolin’ around with you?” She gave Tim a sharp look. “And for that matter, what are you doin’ foolin’ around with him?”

“He just kind of grew on me.”

“Look, I get that you don’t want to talk about this, but why not? I could be an ally.”

“Shoot me now,” Tim said under his breath.

“I understand completely that your, uh, relationship has to be a deep, dark secret, don’t worry about that. I just want to talk because, dammit, Tim, the truth is, I just don’t get why he’d pick you over me.”

“Probably because you’re married.”

“Separated.”

“I didn’t know.” Tim took a drink of his juice.

“Yeah, I draw the line at staying with a man who can betray me with a smile. I will say that for Raylan. He’s not sneaky. You know where you stand with him.” Winona picked up her mug but set it down again without drinking. “I had a crazy idea that Raylan and me might get back together some day. We’re older now and presumably wiser.” She smiled without humor. “I drove up to talk to him, but it appears I wasted a trip. He’s already found somebody.”

“Did it occur to you that you didn’t see what you thought you did?”

“Well, now, I did spend a minute trying to convince myself my eyes were lyin’ to me, but I couldn’t make it work. I saw the look on Raylan’s face. He wasn’t hugging his buddy. He was acting like he always did after we had wake-up sex. All affectionate and attentive. And if it wasn’t what I thought it was, you would have denied it before now.”

“Yeah, I should’ve led with that, huh?”

“Probably.” Winona smiled. “You have a nice smile, by the way. Usually, when I see you, you look so… intense.”

“You usually see me working.”

“Uh-huh. So, how did it happen? I mean, what made the two of you think you should shack up?”

“There wasn’t a whole lot of thinkin’ goin’ on.”

“Oh, I know what you mean. I used to be flattered by how much he wanted me, any hour of the day or night, but it wears you down after a while.” She chuckled. “And that thing of his where he won’t come until you do.” She paused. “I have to tell you though, I just can’t picture Raylan sucking cock.”

“He’s not half bad at it.”

Winona stared at him for a second and then burst into laughter. “I could get to like you, Deputy Tim.”

“If you want it to be mutual, you’re goin’ to have stop callin’ me Deputy Tim.”

“Sorry. I suppose it is a little condescendin’, but you did steal my husband, after all. I know you didn’t really, but I still kind of resent you a little.” Winona regarded him for several seconds. “I’m almost over the shock, but I don’t think I’ll ever understand it.”

“Me neither. When Art made us partners, I wasn’t even sure I liked him. He came with quite a reputation, and that made me wary right off. But like I said, he grew on me.”

“He’s awful easy on the eyes.”

“There is that,” Tim drawled. “And he’s sexy all day long.”

“Right? I can see why a gay man would go for Raylan, but I’m still trying to figure out what attracted him to you.”

“What? I’m not a stud?”

Winona chuckled. “Didn’t mean it that way, and don’t worry about your curb appeal. You’ve got the quiet cool. But see, Raylan’s always had kind of a type, and you don’t fit the criteria. You’re not a flashy but childlike blonde.”

“Not anymore.” Tim smiled to show he was kidding.

“You know, now that I see you outside an office, you’ve got a little strawberry in your used-to-be blond. You’re technically a redhead.”

“So?”

“Do you really not know about Raylan’s fatal attraction to redheads? It’s part of his legend.”

“He’s mentioned steering clear of redheaded women.” Tim shrugged.

“Yeah, he would.” Winona tilted her head. “I just keep coming back to the fact that you lack so many of the things Raylan truly loves, like boobs, for instance.”

“Well, there’s always implants, I guess.”

Winona laughed. “I was right. I like you.”

“That’s fine, but just so you know, I’m not interested in being your sassy gay friend.”

“Too bad.”

“Why? Honestly, I don’t want to be a gay anything. If I could choose, I’d be straight.” Tim coughed. “But I can’t choose. So, I guess I’ll just be thankful I’m not alone, even if that’s what I want.” He stopped talking.

“Go ahead and say it.”

“If Raylan hadn’t shaken me up, I’d be a hermit, hatin’ myself, and gettin’ crazier and crazier, until I did something permanent. He won’t let me hide in my room or in a bottle. I don’t know how he did it, but he made me love him. And now I have something to live for. Sometimes I’m not sure if I’m grateful to him or mad as hell, but grateful usually wins.”

It was a few moments before Winona spoke. “Okay. It makes more sense now.” She put down the mug and got to her feet. “Thanks for your hospitality. I really do appreciate you talking to me, but I’ve made you uncomfortable enough for one day.”

Tim got up and walked to the door with her.

“It’s just so weird,” she said as he opened the door for her.

“Tell me about it.”

Winona turned to face him. “I’d like to be your friend, if you’ll let me. I know Raylan better than almost anyone, so if you need to talk, you can call me.”

“I can’t think of anything to say that won’t sound mean or awkward.”

“You think about it.” Winona smiled at him before she walked to her car.

“What choice do I have?” Tim murmured. He went back inside and found his phone. He called Raylan but go no answer. He remembered Raylan was in court and made a mental note to call him later and warn him about Winona. He stretched out on the bed and fell asleep.

 

Time break

 

From the top of the second-floor stairs, Winona spotted Raylan’s hat among the crowd in the courthouse lobby. “Raylan,” she called out.

Raylan turned, saw her, and walked toward the stairs.

Winona started down, intending to meet him at the bottom. One of her heels caught on the edge of a riser and she pitched forward. She threw out her arms to break her fall, and Raylan was there to catch her.

“Hi, Winona,” Raylan said as he looked down into her eyes.

Winona felt herself start to melt and pushed away from him. She wasn’t sure about the significance of Raylan’s thing with Tim, but she’d still feel like she was poaching if she crossed the line from flirting to seduction.

“Thanks for the assist,” Winona said. “I’m glad I ran into you. I’m having a dinner party for eight on Saturday after next, and I’d love for you to come.”

“Dinner party?” Raylan grimaced.

“It’ll be fun. I handpicked the four couples.”

“Am I your date?”

“I assumed you’d bring Tim.” Winona had a hard time keeping a straight face when she saw Raylan’s reaction.

“Just because he’s my partner, doesn’t mean—” Raylan saw the gleam in her eyes and steered her to a quieter area.

Winona spoke before Raylan could. “I was at your place this morning. I saw you saying goodbye to Tim.”

“What?”

“Calm down. I’m not going to tell anybody.”

“Jesus. You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Sorry.” Winona paused. “I’m okay with it, but what the hell, Raylan? A guy? I fully expected you to have a woman, or two, by now, and I was surprised that there wasn’t any gossip going around about you, but I never would have guessed you were banging a guy.” She took a breath. “And not just some random gay guy. Oh no. Not you. You can’t pick up some twinkie in a drag bar in Lexington. No. You have to screw an ex-Ranger who could probably kill you without breaking a sweat.”

“I think you might have put your pretty finger on what I find appealing about him.”

“Oh, good. I’m so glad you’re prepared to joke about it.”

“Do you want to know if being with you put me off women?”

Winona gasped and then saw the devilish glint in his eyes. “It’s more likely that all the women of the world warned each other about you.”

“Probably right.”

“This ain’t the time or place, but someday, you’re going to tell me how it happened.”

Raylan tilted his hat back. “Am I?”

Winona nodded. “Yes, you are, to make up for lying to me at Don Diego’s.”

“I didn’t exactly lie.”

Winona raised an eyebrow.

“I wasn’t truthful with you, and I’m sorry for that,” Raylan said. “But you have to understand why I couldn’t tell you I wanted advice about my problem with Tim.”  
“No, I guess you couldn’t. It’s kind of funny that I tried to picture your girl and kept seeing someone who looked a whole lot like Ava Crowder. Tim doesn’t look a thing like Ava.”

“Doesn’t act like her either.”

Winona sobered. “Is he okay?”

 

“Okay how?”  
“I’m not asking if he’s a good lay, Raylan. He just seems like he’s wound a little tight.”

“I’m workin’ on that.” He smiled. “Every chance I get.”

“That sounds like you.”

“I ain’t complainin’, but I’d have thought you’d be little more—”

“Shocked?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t worry. You’re still the manliest man I’ve ever met, and I _was_ shocked. But I’ve had time to get over the sight of you finding out what Tim’s tonsils taste like.”

“Is this what it’s gonna be like from now on?”

Winona grinned. “I’m just warming up.”

Raylan grinned back. It _was_ pretty funny when you thought about it. “Fine, but do me a favor and don’t tease Tim. He’s still skittish about the whole thing.”

“And you’re not?”

Raylan shrugged. “The way it started was beyond my control, but I believe I’ve got a leg up on it now. You know me. I’m going to stay on until I’m thrown.”

“I’d agree, to judge from that healthy glow Tim has.”

Raylan laughed but stopped abruptly. “I’m not playin’, Winona. I love you, but you leave him alone, or I’ll… I have no idea what I’ll do, but you won’t like it.”

“I don’t mean harm to a single hair on that boy’s head. I like him. He’s cute, and he makes you want to be a better person, so he’s one up on me.”

“You’re cute.”

Winona smiled as she put a hand on Raylan’s chest. “Joni Mitchell was right. You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.”

“Come on, Winona. You hated livin’ with me. You hated me bein’ gone all the time. You hated me not talkin’ when I _was_ home.”

“I remember. Maybe I’m just a little jealous.”

“Apples and oranges, Winona.”

“Excuse me?”

“Never mind. I’m not even sure _I_ know what I meant by that.” Raylan squinted at her. “By the way, _twinkie_?”

“Ain’t that what they call them?”

“Who?”

“You know, the gay boys who hang out in clubs.”

“No, I don’t know.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter; your Tim is not a twinkie.”

“ _My Tim._ ” Raylan smiled. “I like that.”

“Of course, you do, you throwback. Now, are you coming to my dinner party?”

“Do I have to?”

“No, but I sure would love you to come… and bring Tim.”

Raylan thought for a few seconds. “How formal are we talking?”

“Dress nice but no tuxedos. I’m serving a four-course dinner with wine pairings.” She smiled. “I’ll lay in some beer for you.”

“Don’t go to any trouble. You just serve what you were planning on.”

“You’ll come?”

“It’s a free meal.”

“And you’ll bring Tim?”

“If he wants to come.”

“Wonderful.” Winona kissed his cheek and left him with a lot to think about.

 

Time break

 

Tim stood in front of the dresser. He held the ends of a tie in his hands. “Remind me of why I’m doin’ this.”

Raylan came up behind Tim and reached around him to tie his tie.

“I know how to do that,” Tim said.

“I know you do, but I like doin’ it.” Raylan stepped back and looked Tim up and down. “You’ll do,” he said. In fact, Tim looked so good Raylan wanted to take that suit off him and do bad things, but he had an obligation. “I committed to this dinner,” he said.

“And I let you talk me into it.” Tim smirked. “Though you weren’t doin’ a whole lot of talkin’. Your mouth was full, as I recall.”

“It don’t matter what bait you use, as long as you get ‘em in the bucket,” Raylan said.

“That’s the worst folksy sayin’ I’ve ever heard.”

“Doubt it.” Raylan put on his hat. “You ready for this?”

“Hell no.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

“Let’s go then.”

And so they went, not knowing what lay in store, but ready for anything because they were together.


End file.
